Blue and Green
by Shibaraku
Summary: AU- A universe where one's eye colour defines their supernatural abilities. Castiel, blessed by God, finds himself on a mission. Venturing into the world for the first time. Dean, cursed by Hell, is caught in holy crossfire. Destiel fic.
1. Chapter 1- Intro

Before the fic begins, there is some basic information that needs to be known about the AU. There's no appropriate manner to share so much information at once. The AU is called the Universe of the Eyes. Eye colour is a reflection of inherent capabilities. There are average humans, and there are those touched by the otherworlds. Nobody has a grasp on what lies before birth and after death, but it is known that those souls who brushed with another realm show evidence of it when born. In the purest realm, some call it Heaven, there is said to be a god of peace. A god of love. Humans touched by Her bear brilliant blue eyes. The closer to white in colour, the stronger their abilities. They are able to hear thoughts as though spoken. Transport themselves to places they have already been, with only a wish. If called upon, no matter the distance, the prayer will be heard. Once prayed to, they may heal those who believe in them. The truly blessed, those of whom may even recall a glimpse of life before birth, can fly themselves into the air, with the faintest of wings shimmering from their back.

There is yet another realm. One that is ruled by a god of violence. Of anger. Humans touched by Him bear equally brilliant green eyes. The closer to emerald in colour, the stronger their dark abilities. This reality burned of pain, and the humans deemed it Hell. Souls brushed by Hell are born with abilities as well. Control over hellfire, with a heat that seemed to devour the air and flesh with a life of it's own. One can cast darkness upon an area, blotting out the sun from sight. They can transport themselves in the form of smoke, dissolving their bodies into immaterial. Those truly loved by Him, those of whom may even recall a glimpse of life before birth, can steal the soul of one who believes in them. A soul for their own taking. The closer to the natural human colour of brown, the less endowed a person is. A person's parentage has nothing to do with their predisposition to eye colour. Instead it is in fate's hand what happens to a soul beyond the mortal realm.

With this basis in mind, please enjoy the fiction!


	2. Chapter 2

I'm starting story number three. This is Dean and Castiel, eventually. AU where Cas is a human. NOT MPREG. I'm borrowing the basis for this universe from the authoress Muffy the Dough Slayer /u/2534773/. Her original story is titled Green Eyes.

Mine's an original story line, and somewhat different from the Green Eyes Universe. Enjoy!

* * *

Castiel is a good boy. He lives with his family; every single member has blue eyes. The Novak blood line always has, since the first recorded couple. His family is favoured by Her. God. The creator. Especially Castiel's eldest brother, Michael. He is the only living man with specks of white in his iris. Only two others have _ever _been so connected to Her. Because of this Michael speaks in Her favor. He stands as a figure for the church. Castiel never saw Michael anymore, unless he attended Sunday Mass. All of his blessed older brothers were almost unreachable. He, though born with blue eyes as well, does not possess as many gifts that they do. Though the ones he has, he is skilled with.

The young Novak mostly treasures his ability to transport, or flash, himself. The freedom it gave him was something he came to rely on. He remembered in his youth before his abilities developed. He would watch his brothers and sisters flit about. They would heal people. Console them. Singing their praises to God above. Castiel was never good at singing, considering how his voice is so low and gruff. Castiel remembered the first time he felt jealousy. You could describe Castiel as a late bloomer, he developed into his abilities at a later age than all the other Novak family members. He couldn't heal people so well either. The first time he did was at the age of 23. It was a skinned knee. The young, deep brown eyed, girl had trusted him. Believed in the blue eyed Castiel, and he remembered the exact moment he knew what to do. Having her belief stirred a kind of strength in him. This person, as Castiel later learned, was entrusting a part of herself to him. This is what allowed him to heal her knee. Gabriel described it as, she opened access to her soul, so his grace could heal her. Grace, that's what the church called it. The embodiment of the Blue Eye abilities.

The gospel goes that souls deemed worthy of Her attention would receive Her grace. Born unto them as a gift of purity. Castiel had heard of the less fortunate. Those whose souls were branded by Him in Hell. These poor people never wandered the Holy City. He didn't know much about the unfortunate ones. The Green Eyed people. They live on the other continent. Castiel's heart went out to them. The essence of their being is tainted, and impure. Granted, he's never met one. But during High School he'd read a few books, and the history class brushed the topic. He had a general idea of how they developed abilities. Almost like himself, but in an unholy way. Evil in nature. The other continent seemed like this intimidating foreign world to the naive Castiel.

He could go, sure. It's not illegal to travel to the Emerald Continent. The Normals do it all the time. Gabriel ventured across the ocean a few times as well. It was a messy event though. He came back changed somehow. He was just different, and it was difficult for Castiel to pinpoint it. He was more, rebellious. He remembered how he'd feared for Gabriel's soul. Concerned that Gabe may have been tainted from the Emerald Continent. But his eyes were as sky blue as always, despite his experiences.

Being the obedient little brother, Castiel never really ventured out of the capital, Holy City. One day, his life's plan changed course though. And the safe isolated life he'd lead, was no longer. All because his sister Anna was so different. Special even. She is the only known person with both Blue and Green Eyes. _'Everyone seems to be afraid of her.'_ Castiel observed. Today at 29 years of age he is ordered to "Retrieve her by any means necessary." 29 years he has lived on the Sacred Continent. Now he has to strike and venture into the unkown.

It was a bad situation to be put in. She had fled to the Emerald Continent over a year ago, and now he had to bring her back. This wasn't a good assignment for him. He reflected on his memories of her. How she had been raised under Michael's careful gaze. _'She had confided in me.' _He remembered. She was confused and scared of herself. There would be spontaneous fires that would manifest around her. And whenever she was stressed the world would seem to turn black. She spoke of a heat that was inside of her, and drove her to do violent things.

They were both worried about the Green in her eyes, and how it was affecting her. She needed better control. Trying to help, he informed Raphael of her troubles. It wasn't long before the church came for her. Castiel recalled how she reacted. As her two brothers moved in, her complex eyes met with his own. She looked so.. hurt. Betrayed, even. An instant later she flashed away. That was a year ago. Nobody expected her to run the way she did. His memories swirled around his mind as he was being ordered to find her, his face remained stoic. Something that he learned to do at a young age.

There was a finality in Michael's voice as he commanded Castiel, and it worried the younger man. He would do as he must. Even if he feared for Anna. For this mission he wasn't going alone. Uriel was coming as well. Which was good, considering Castiel feared he wasn't resolved enough on his own. He prayed to Heaven above for guidance. God had never responded to his prayers before, so he didn't really expect some sort of divine intervention now.

Castiel attended the early morning Mass to re-align his priorities before he met with Uriel. It was possible that Raphael had read his mind, and addressed his most recent questions during the sermon. "Yes," He'd reassured the gathering, "She is listening to your prayers. And yes She loves each of you as her children. Have faith, and everything will happen according to Her divine plan."

Gabriel had been at the church that morning. His gaze was out the window. Since he'd returned to the Holy City it's almost as though he doesn't believe anymore. It was intimidating. First Gabriel, now Anna. It's almost as though Hell's touch was creeping into Castiel's life. Sending up one more prayer at the end of the sermon, he then flashed out of the church to meet with Uriel.

* * *

Uriel smiled as Castiel appeared. He was in one of his nicer black suits. In contrast Castiel looked a hot mess. He seemed tired, and overworked. An ever-present 5 o'clock shadow dusted his features. He had dawned the first suit he could grab that morning and wore his old reliable blue tie... backwards. Just as he started to put on his trenchcoat in silence, Uriel noticed the strained look on Castiel's face.

"Tell me, what bothers you?"

"..." Castiel didn't feel like explaining.

"Castiel, please. Are you concerned about our orders?" Uriel probed. It was a common courtesy not to read the thoughts of another without permission, but Uriel was tempted.

"Do you think she will resist us?" His voice came out even and steady.

"It would be foolish of her to do." Uriel sighed lightly. They were all related, in some fashion. He's known her as long as Castiel has.

Castiel looked down. He felt.. an emotion. Something he didn't know. Didn't want to feel. He hesitated and Uriel noticed it.

"Come we must go to the airport. There is a flight for us." At the direction Castiel nodded. He had his ID, Passport, money and trenchcoat. Uriel carried the isolating handcuffs. Which was fine seeing as how he never enjoyed being around the item. Neither man assumed to bring anything else. Finding Anna should be a simple task.

Castiel remembers her clearly. He remembers her soul. What makes her who she is. Once they are close enough he and Uriel could focus on her essence and will be able to flash over to her. Castiel desperately wanted her to be okay. He wished for her safety. Most of all he wished she wasn't changed. Fear for her welled inside of him. The fact that Uriel and Castiel were retrieving her at all was bad enough.

* * *

They both appeared in the airport lobby. Even though they could have easily flashed past security, it would cause the Normals to fret so the two refrained. As they landed people cleared away. Not from fear, but respect. The Blue Eyed ones were of the church. They were an extension of Her grace. Normals showed reverence and respect for that. Standing tall and confident Castiel approached the counter and collected the two one way tickets. The female attendant had light brown eyes and a dopey smile. This kind of attention was common. Castiel had never reciprocated any sort of flirting before. Without a smile he walked away from the woman, tickets in hand.

He'd fallen in step behind his brothers when growing up. It just made sense that he would dedicate his life to the church. The rest of his years would go to praising Her. His Lord. As the two men departed for the gate in silence Castiel pondered his decisions. In order to serve the church one had to become celibate. The goal is to keep the body pure. It took discipline. Dedication to your faith. Dedication to his Mother and creator. Castiel was skilled with his grace. Raphael has said that it was his purity that gave him strength. It took decades of focus for Castiel to reach the point that he was at today. For years he meditated on controlling his body. At some point about 8 years ago he reached a sort of serenity. His emotions fell under control. Each one tempered with a steady hand.

Uriel sat himself in one of the many plastic chairs beside the gate. As his eyes lost focus, it was most likely that he was sorting through the prayers of those who believed in him. Those Normals who sought him out in times of need. A Blue Eye would act as a mentor, or leader for those who believed in them and prayed. Castiel, himself only had a few who prayed to him. And it was not often that he was plagued by their concerns. A whisper of jealousy passed his thoughts. He quickly reminded himself that every person helped by a Blue Eye is brought closer to Her worship. Castiel was proud that Uriel was able to help so many people strengthen their faith.

The gate slowly began to fill with people. A gentle hum of conversation floated about the area. Men, women, the elderly, and children moved about him. The smell of coffee and breakfast foods reached Castiel's nose. He turned to the massive windows and watched the sky turn a deep orange as the sun began to rise. In the distance he spotted a descending plane. It appeared as a silhouette against the changing sky. Castiel released a burdened sigh. His intuition was alarmed, and uneasy. Something was very, very wrong. And he had no idea what it was.

* * *

.. Please be lemme know what you think! Any and all ideas you have. I'm flying by the seat of my pants for this plot line. So if there's something you Want to see, then tell me!


	3. Chapter 3

As the two, painfully out of place, men departed the international airport they attempted to flash to Anna's location. Castiel, having a stronger connection to her, felt a slight twinge when he tried. Almost as though he was barely able to locate her. Both failed, they locked eyes, sadness evident in their gaze.

"I think she's too far away," Uraiel's voice held lament. Though if it was due to the fact he would be on the continent longer than he'd planned, or due to genuine concern Castiel was unsure.

"Perhaps. I felt her, but it was hazy. Indistinct," The younger of the two struggled to figure it out. It could just be an affect of her being too far away.

"I have one who prays to me. He's a contact on this side. I shall go to him, and see what information he may have." Uriel turned somber eyes on Castiel. "This means you'll have to wait. I do not think he will respond well to your presence."

He didn't like splitting up for obvious reasons, but Castiel understood the reasoning behind the decision. He nodded once, sharply. The sooner Uriel left, the sooner he'd return. It was only moments later that Uriel flashed away, having located his Normal.

* * *

People moved around Castiel. Every single one of them had a clear destination in mind. But not him. Awkward as hell he moved out of the main crowd and stood against the side of the nearest building. Normals passed by him, mostly unaware of his existence. What unnerved him when someone did notice him. His eyes would meet with a stranger's and the Normal would smirk. It was secretive and disturbing. Almost as though his very presence was humorous to everyone but himself.

_'What have I gotten myself into?'_ Once Castiel had counted over 30 strange reactions to his bright blue eyes, he decided to go incognito. Or as incognito as an uptight, yet disheveled Castiel could get. _'The sun's out. Sunglasses would hide my eye colour well enough.'_ With a solid goal in mind, he moved away from the airport and further into the crowded city. At a cursory glance everything was nearly the same as the Holy City. There were roads, and building. Sidewalks for pedestrians, and the same type of cars stuck in lunch time traffic. Traffic signals where nearly the same. Here, though, the green light was on top, and back home the red light is usually on top.

Castiel stopped himself from snorting at that. It was silly and vain, but a sure sign that he was indeed in the right city. It was only a few blocks walk before he located a small shop. Briskly he walked in, ready to end this pensive torture, and snagged the first pair of regular sunglasses. Silent as always he approached the counter. A young man was working; his eyes glued to the small television mounted on the wall. Castiel dropped the item and 10$ on the counter. The man looked up as he the broke the bill and went to return the cash. Realization dawned in his brown eyes. A serious, and somewhat harassed, looking blue eye was trying to buy sunglasses. Blatantly he began laughing as he handed over the money.

Displeasure marred Castiel's handsome features. Without a word he quickly put the sunglasses on and entered the streets once more. It has been less than an hour and already he has no plans to ever return to this continent. Once again, he awkward and in the way as people pushed past the lone Novak. He was treated like any other person. Castiel never thought of himself as self important, but he did miss the respectful regard the Holy City Normals would show him. Though he never responded to the smiles, the flirting, it was preferable to having young punks laughing in his face.

Irritation creeped up and he focused on smoothing the emotion out. He needed to remain tranquil. It didn't take long, the emotion falling under his command. A glance at his watch showed Uriel has been absent for around an hour and a half now. Castiel made the executive decision to follow him. It's been long enough, and they needed to stick together.

* * *

For a moment Castiel thought of Uriel. Everything that he was, and reached out to him. In a moment he'd successfully flashed. He found himself in total darkness, before he realized he was indoors and could no longer reasonably wear sunglasses. He pushed them up atop is head and took in his new surroundings. Where ever he was now, didn't appear that safe. The few windows were spray painted black, with only fragments of sunlight showing through. Dilapidated desks and chairs were scattered in the far corner. There was a thick layer of dust and debris over every flat surface. Worst of all he couldn't immediately see Uriel.

Seeing as how he flashed on this location, his cousin had to be nearby. _'What is going on?'_

"Uriel?" Castiel called out, his voice sounding far more impressive than usual as it echoed in the concrete space. Only silence followed. Concern began to rear itself; this time he didn't bother to quell the emotion. Something was wrong. Castiel was unarmed, but not physically incapable. And if a confrontation was inevitable he could flash himself back to that corner store. Gingerly he advanced through the dark space. He headed to the far corner, hoping to find any clue about the situation or even the entrance to another room.

He passed a broken pipe, it looked newly mangled, torn from the wall. Fresh water trickled down from the open line. Nearby the dust covering the ground appeared kicked up. It was as though there were several people there at one point. Castiel progressed further back. A long piece of twine brushed against his cheek, making him flinch. He grabbed the string and followed it up to the ceiling. _'Huh. So that's where the light is.'_

Castiel tugged gently on the line, and a single dingy light bulb lit the space. It didn't give him a great view. He could see more debris, and grimaced as cockroaches he was previously unaware of scattered. About 5 feet away from him was a large dark spot on the ground. Adrenalin shot through his system. _'No, no, no, please don't let that be Uriel's blood.'_

Crouching down, and sampling the liquid between his fingers confirmed his fear. That was blood. There was no way to determine whose. Fight or flight kicked in, and Fight took charge. He needed to find Uriel and get out of this place. No longer as cautious as he should probably be, Castiel stormed further back. Aggressively he kicked a table aside to make room. Within' a minute a thin strip of light became visible on the back wall. To Castiel it seemed like a doorway.

Chemicals pumped through his veins, giving him more courage than normal. Gaining momentum he reached the doorway and kicked the industrial door right on it's old handle. The door flew open easily, seeing as how it wasn't even locked. The sudden flood of light assaulted his unprepared eyes. He tried to block the light source with his hand. There was movement to his right, but he didn't react fast enough. A blinding pain exploded behind his eyes. Everything went fuzzy.

The cool concrete was pressed against his cheek. A painfully high pitched ringing was destroying his ears. Castiel wasn't sure when that had happened. Why was his skull on fire? Sluggishly he dragged his arm up, and pressed his hand to the place that hurt the most. It was wet. Sticky even. Castiel groaned unintelligibly. Slowly, very slowly he rolled onto his stomach, and tried to pull his legs under him. The first steps in trying to stand. The ringing in his ears started to break. He realized it was voices he was hearing. They were male.

Someone kicked him in the ribs. He was knocked back onto his side. Unable to move at the moment, he focused instead on trying to understand. Bits and pieces of words floated about his brain: "Concussion!" - "One blue eye.. only more will show" - "Uriel said that.." - "We gotta call in."

It was too much. The talking, the noise, the pain, the bright lights, all of it over stimulated the injured man and he retched on the floor before passing out. Unable to stop himself Castiel embraced sweet darkness. He could only hope he and Uriel would make it out of this alive.

* * *

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That's it for tonight. Honestly I'm not entirely sure what's even going on. I just sit down and starting typing what comes to mind.

Tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Reality was spinning. Swirling, blinding pain stabbed at Castiel's consciousness. Peaceful darkness slipped away from the assault. The injured man's sweaty palms found purchase on the floor. A weak attempt to ground himself. If existence would stop moving so much, he could try to get up. Pain beat against Castiel's skull. He knew the best way to manage pain was to focus on something else. Like breathing.

Slowly taking in air, feeling his chest expand at a steady pace. He just as slowly released his breath. The spinning weakened after an eternity. With nothing else he could do, he continued his steady gentle inhale and exhale. Castiel became aware of the chill permeating through his body. He must still be in the same concrete room. There was an ache in his lower back, and at his rib cage. He was kicked.. by someone. And his head. _'I am probably concussed.'_ The fact would naturally panic him; fortunately that very injury assisted in disassociating himself from his concerns.

A warm grip fastened itself onto his shoulder. Nothing hurtful or demanding. It helped. _'Keep breathing. The world is not spinning. Inhale, exhale.'_ Sometime during this recovery Castiel had managed to finally pull his legs under himself. He is how hunched over on his knees. Palms and forehead resting against the ground. Almost in a mocking position of prayer.

"Castiel.." This time he could recognize the voice. Uriel. He was alive!

"Ahhhh," Escaped his lips. Which was his unfortunate attempt at communicating, though it did perfectly convey what condition his body was in.

"Slowly Castiel. You are injured." The obvious statement flared an annoyance in Castiel. _'Thank you for such a reaffirming grasp on the obvious.'_ Unable to communicate, he opted instead to slowly push with his arms. His head began the excruciating ascent into a sitting position.

Uriel was trying to sooth his brother. Normally he would heal Castiel, but he didn't feel the stirring of belief in his chest. In order to help, the man had to believe. There was nothing. Perhaps he is too unfocused. May not realize it is Uriel who speaks to him.

Time passed in silence. Occasionally some pained noise would escape from Castiel's lips. Uriel puzzled over why he could not help. He was of blue eyes! That was the point of his abilities. Afterall he was the cause of Castiel's discomfort. At the very least he should be able to alleviate it. Unable to be of any assistance the older man instead observed Castiel closely. Monitoring his recovery.

* * *

Now sitting in a chair, Castiel managed to control his pain. Though the florescent lights overhead were piercing through his eye lids. It instigated the migraine that was running freely about his skull. There was a thought lingering at the edge of his awareness.. something that was important. Castiel rubbed his hands along his face vigorously. His finger caught on something plastic by his ear. Of course. The sunglasses.

Eagerly he pulled them down from atop his head. Now protected he gingerly opened his eyes for the first time. Yup. He was in the same room. The door he'd kicked in was still open, and barely hanging. Uriel stood silently before him. Probably trying to be considerate in some way. He slowly looked around the room for his assailant. Instead he found there was another door behind him, that remained closed. Several metal crates that he couldn't see into. More cockroaches. They seemed to be swarming around a lumpy blue mass in the corner. Castiel sniffed and smelled something foul in the air.

"Uriel," He began. With each beat of his heart there was an echoing throb in his brain. Castiel steeled his expression to mask the impact. He needed to recover and lead his subordinate. "What is that?" Instead of moving towards it he stared at the unidentified blue thing.

"That would be the remains of the man who believed in me," Uriel's voice held no remorse. No infliction at all. It was surprising. Castiel was known for his reserved manner. Uriel was more prone to emotional expression. Yet he stands before the remains of one who _believed _in him, and doesn't even seem to care.

"What lead to his death? And why was I attacked?" Castiel turned to face Uriel. The dark man remained silent. It seemed as though he was deciding on which words would be best. Slowly, ominously Castiel stood to his full height. There was a dead man, and he needed answers.

"I arrived to consult with the man who believed," Uriel lightly gestured to the dead body, "Mark. He assulted me, and I managed to knock him aside. When I demanded an explanation he was evasive. We were out in the larger room, and Mark grabbed ahold of the pipe along the wall. He pulled it free and tried to use it as a weapon. I weathered the attack and finally was able to pull the pipe from his grasp." Uriel shifted on his feet and glanced around the room as though he was anxious to leave.

"He-he came after me again, and I swung the pipe as strongly as I could. It clipped his arm. As I stood over him I tried again to find out why he attacked. It was then I was struck from behind. A second man almost hit me unconcious. The two dragged me to this very room." Uriel paused and finally made eye contact with Castiel. Something was off. Uriel's eyes still didn't hold the emotions Castiel was accustomed to.

"Mark began to interrogate me. Asking me what we were after. I said we are trying to locate our lost sister Anna. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. Mark kept insisting there was another motive. That I was a threat. It was around that time you kicked in the door. The other man quickly knocked you out." Uriel looked away again. He strode across the room to the spot where Castiel had fallen. The silence was contemplative. "I used the distraction you provided to grab Mark's gun and shoot him. He was closer to me. The other man fled. I saw his face but never knew who he was. While they-

"They interrogated me Mark said that Anna was 'doing good' in the ghetto. She's at Diocesan Boys' School." Uriel's face finally held a true emotion as he spoke his next words, "It's in the heart of dangerous land. There's a cult that's been growing in the city. That school is in it's territory."

From that entire story Castiel only trusted the idea that Anna was working at that school. There was no way Uriel was the victim of an attack. Castiel spotted blood splatter across the tailored suit, and he didn't even have a limp. No awkwardness to his movements. Nothing to indicate he was assaulted by two men, and then interrogated. There are no other blue eyes here who could have healed him. It just didn't add up.

Still, their next action had to be decided. "Where are we?"

"Don't know. We should leave." Uriel seemed content with the change in subject. Castiel mentally checked on his body. His back and ribs will be tender but easily managed. His migraine was fading but still very present. He was grateful to his past self for acquiring the sunglasses.

"Once we have Anna in our custody, you will make a police report regarding this incident. For now Mark's remains will stay until our mission is complete." Castiel did not enjoy his own decision. There was a man in that corner. A man who deserved to have his final rites, and to be buried in a proper grave. _'It will happen. Just not now.'_ He tried to assuage his guilt.

Uriel didn't question. Immediately he departed back through the broken door, easily maneuvering in the darkness. Quickly he located the exit and the two blue eyes emerged into the early evening. Uriel's second nature ability to navigate the place did not pass by unnoticed. Castiel was resolved in his concern. There absolutely was more going on. The man's head throbbed at the added responsibility. Now he had to monitor Uriel's actions as well complete is orders.

Uriel pulled out his smart phone and searched the Diocesan Boys' School. It was 5 miles away. It was a manageable task to reach their destination. This city did provide public transportation, yet Uriel was not anxious to place himself in close contact with this city's residents. He passed the information to Castiel.

Without a word the younger man turned and flagged down a taxi. The driver pulled over for the two immediately. Money's money, even if one of the men had blood splattered on his clothes, and the other had blood on the side of his face. Uriel was pleased with the decision. At least they were not going to walk. The two men entered the cab.

"Diocesan Boys' School, on Wittager Street." Uriel stated the directions. His voice slightly haughty. Afterall he was speaking to a lowly taxi driver. It's not as though he was going to concern himself with manners.

Fortunately the driver exercised manners of his own. "Yes sir. Your friend there seems injured." The driver rummaged around the front seat and produced a few clean napkins and a bottle of water. "Here, use this to clean up a little. You okay sir?"

Castiel was surprised to say the least. There were a few moment where he stared at the driver, taking in his appearance for the first time. The man was aged. Gay hairs sprinkles his hair and full beard. There were lines across his face, radiating from the corners of his brown eyes. "Happy lines" his younger brother Samandiriel calls them. "Thank you," Castiel was humbled by the small act of kindness, "I am fine."

His answer seemed to suffice the old man's concerns, and the car pulled back on to the road. The ride over to the school was slowed by evening traffic. It gave Uriel time to sort his prayers. The older man sat with blood across his expensive suit, unconcerned of the appearance he gave off. Castiel stemmed the blood flow from the gash in his skull. The remaining time he tried to feel out Anna. If they truly were 5 miles away from her, then the two men should have easily flashed to her location. Yet it didn't happen. He could feel her. Almost like another presence in the same large room. It was the same as last time he attempted, it was almost as though she was fuzzy. Barely out of his reach. _'What am I getting myself into?'_

* * *

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So I stole the name Diocesan Boys' School. No idea what that place is but I enjoyed the way it sounded too much to pass it up. I have no association with them, and imply no association with them through this fiction. I am not attempting to slander or insinuate anything about their institution.

I am also sure there are millions of things wrong with this grammatically. If there are please PM me anything glaringly wrong. Hope you enjoy the story so far!


	5. Chapter 5

Standing outside the boys' school the sky is gray and gloomy. Castiel could hear children laughing inside. He doesn't want to bring conflict to such a surprisingly, pure place. He felt as though the weather was a reflection of his actions. Uriel stood resolved, eager even. He is leaning forward, eyes fixed on the building.

"How should we do this?" Uriel was junior to Castiel. The weight of responsibility settled across his shoulders as he needed to decide the best action. Uriel couldn't be alone with Anna, not yet.

"I will enter, and address the school's headmaster regarding Anna's whereabouts. I will need you to stay vigilant for anyone who tries to escape the premises. Incapacitate, don't kill." Castiel gave him a point look with the last statement. Uriel nodded and walked through the gate. He passed into the darkness around the building.

It was impressive to look upon. All red brick. Tall with power. There was almost no grass for the children, it was the city afterall. A solid black iron gate stood. Castiel immediately recognized the importance of the wrought iron. He remembered lore of iron's purifying nature. This is probably the only structure in this city with such a feature. An impression of strength emanated from the school. A strength he was here to challenge.

Castiel entered the path and pushed the heavy oak door open. Wind rushed by, flapping his trench coat as it flowed. The dark sky to his back and warm light illuminating his front left a striking impression. It was at that moment he first saw perfect green eyes.

The man turned to face him. Surprise across his handsome features. Castiel's breath caught. He felt his eye widen. The man he looked upon stood in the middle of the atrium. He was slightly taller than himself, dressed casually. But it was his eyes that made Castiel react.

Brilliant emerald green eyes shone against slightly tanned skin. The man's lips parted, as though he wanted to speak but couldn't. Castiel was in equal shock. They stared. Both caught. It was the first crack of thunder that tore through the tension, illuminating the room.

"Who the fuck are you?" The green eyed man demanded. There was wariness and fascination in his expression.

"I am Castiel, High Priest of the Lord."

"Yeah? I'm Dean." He cracked his lips into a small smile, almost as though laughing at how unpredictable his life was.

* * *

Castiel strides in confidently. His eyes trained on the stranger. On Dean. He wasn't here to bully. Castiel started wandering the atrium innocently. His fingers reached out and tinkered with the various objects. Not once did he turn his back, he wasn't stupid afterall. Dean could be aggressive for all Castiel knew.

The man was silent a few moments. "What is a Blue Eyes doing in my school?"

"I am here to retrieve someone." That statement struck a cord. This man does not possess the capability to mask his emotions very well. Slight panic stiffened his posture. Castiel picked at the flowers set out on a side table before facing him again.

"Yeah? Well, nobody's going anywhere until I know what's going on."

"_What's going on," _Castiel mimicked the way he talked, "Is a woman with Blue and Green eyes has taken refuge at this school." Castiel stepped closer to the man, invading his personal space for the first time, "And I am here to return her." Castiel felt calm as he spoke. His confidence hasn't wavered. Anna is here. He will locate her.

"Okay Rainman, whoever this chick is. She 'aint here." Dean threw his arms out to emphasize her lack of presence, taking a step away during the motion.

It was that moment Anna flashed into the room, off to Dean's right. Castiel almost wanted to smile at how poorly this man's lie was executed. Anna's expression was a little wild as she took in the situation. Her hair seemed as gorgeous red as always. The smile she used to wear, no longer present. What did catch Castiel off guard was her eyes. They'd changed. The blue and green hues had blended. What was once two distinct colours, was now something new.

Without looking away from her brother Anna gave instructions, "Dean. We need to go. Now" Dean, opened his mouth to probably protest. Quickly she snatched his arm. Both of them seemed to disappear into thin air.

"Impossible," Castiel muttered. He walked forward into the space the two had just occupied. "That was no flash." It was almost as though they both went transparent, then were gone. Castiel felt a small brush of wind pass his cheek. It was uncharacteristically warm and out of place. He stood alone in the atrium now, trying to decide which direction Anna may have fled in.

* * *

Thundering boots started a racket upstairs. Quickly the person descended a nearby staircase. A gruff older man came into view. His clothes looked as worn as he did. He sported a beard and double barrel shotgun, which was quickly leveled with Castiel's face.

"You and your kind aren't welcome here. Get the hell out!" As the older man demanded, a faint smell of whiskey reached Castiel's nose.

"I am no threat to you," Castiel stated. He did not hold his hands up despite the obvious threat.

"Then why do you have a Blue Eyes creeping around outside?" The older man began to advance threateningly. He chambered a round; a sound that made Castiel's blood run chill. It was time to disarm the situation. Castiel flashed, appearing behind the unwitting man. Quickly Castiel twisted his right arm away from the trigger. Next he kicked the back of the man's knees. Now the man had his arm trapped and was at Castiel's mercy on his knees.

"I am not here to harm you," Castiel tried to clarify. Castiel seized the gun and kept it in the grip of his free hand.

"Who the hell are you?" Disbelief was obvious in his voice. Castiel couldn't see his expression but had a good idea what it was at that moment.

"My name is Castiel. I am here for Anna."

"Great. I'm Bobby. Anna's long gone by now," As Bobby introduced himself his tone of voice indicated to Castiel that he did not feel the situation was indeed 'Great'. Instead pain and anger coloured his words. Castiel could feel an aged frailty in this Bobby person. His arm was both strong in Castiel's grasp, and simultaneously weak. If he really wanted to, he could probably break Bobby's arm easily. With that thought, he released the trapped man.

"She is still near," Castiel disagreed with the idea that she'd fled far away. He could still feel her closer than ever. Why hadn't she left the school? Why stay so near? Why can't he flash to her? This just wasn't making sense. Not much about this mission is. Castiel's eyes lost focus for a moment as he directed all of his abilities on Anna. He thought of Anna's changed eyes. Anna's pure heart. Anna's smile. He felt the power well in his chest.

Bobby saw Castiel's internal distraction. He saw as those blue eyes became brighter. Not wasting the opportunity he grabbed the shotgun away and tried to swing it's butt into Castiel's temple. He missed and stumbled into thin air. Castiel had flashed away.

"Well god damn it," Bobby cussed.

* * *

When Castiel re-appeared he was in a hallway. It must have been in the school still, everything had the same basic design to it. Anna had to be nearby, Even if he couldn't get a strong fix on her, he couldn't give up yet. There are four doors in this area. Probably some sort of housing or apartments.

The best way to investigate would be going door to door until he finds his query. He grasped the the handle of the first door. It was locked. '_Huh.. should have guessed it would be.'_ Castiel put his ear against the frame to determine if anyone was inside. If he could avoid giving away his location he would. There was silence. He looked at the bottom of the door frame for light. It was dark. Castiel stepped back and quickly swept the hallway with his eyes trying to locate any tool that could assist in opening the lock with minimal noise.

Suddenly, a young man's scream of pain tore down the hallway. '_Well if that isn't a sign..' _The pained man was two doors away. Hastily Castiel reached it and decided against stealth, afterall someone needed his help. Doing exactly as he had done with Uriel he kicked the door at it's handle and barged into the room. Again, just as with Uriel, he was struck on the side of the head. Rendered useless on the floor for the second time in a day Castiel was able to marvel at his own ignorance before he once again fell into a sweet darkness.

* * *

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I'm sorry Castiel keeps getting injured. Just remember, this is the first time he's been in a real-world situation. And once he feels someone is in danger, his instinct is just to react. To help. Like Samandiriel said Castiel always had too much heart. He'll get everything sorted out soon. I'm also trying to take a few cues from the original show so there might be a few situations here that will parallel Canon.


	6. Chapter 6

It's really cool to compare the reviews for Blue and Green against my other stories. I swear there's something about Destiel fans.. they always use the word 'Love'. I love this.. I love that.. It's really interesting. And absolutely makes me smile. Thank you to everyone who shows their support.

* * *

Anna gently tapped her hand against Castiel's face. She felt the ever present stubble scratch lightly against her.

"I don't like this," Dean grumbled. He looked at the unconcious man. His face appeared serene in sleep. So far from the stern expression he first saw. "Can't the guy outside appear any minute? And this one," He gestured to Castiel's form, "Found us so damn quick. How'd he hear Sammy?" Dean's questions began to flow like water. He's trying to help Anna, but there's only so much he could do without information.

"1. Not with these binding handcuffs, it cuts them off from their power the same way it cuts you off. 2. His name is Castiel. 3. I don't know how he responded so quick. We need to wake him up and figure out why they are here for me."

"You need to come home." Castiel slurred. The sound of her voice roused him. This pain was so familiar now. Not any less crippling, just familiar. He tried to raise his hand to his injured head, and found himself restrained. He tried to reach out to Uriel, but couldn't feel anything but himself, his power dissipated. "Why am I bound?"

"Precaution," Dean cut Anna's response off. "We're gonna need to know what you plan to do with Anna."

"I am not going to do anything to her. Anna doesn't belong here. She belongs with family." He turned to Anna now, "I couldn't flash to you. Why?"

She saw pain line his expression, as though being unable to reach her somehow hurt him. "Cassy." She sighed, dropping to her heels so her face was level with his. "It's not safe for me there. Michael does not have my best intentions in mind."

Castiel leaned forward, straining a little. "You've changed." He analyzed everything he could and slowly his eyes went wide. "That's why I can't reach you. You've changed. Even your eyes."

Anna stopped him, "I'm better now. Honestly, I'm at peace. I found a balance between the two forces. There can be harmony." Castiel believed her. She has gained the tranquility, and balance that he himself sought. It was apparent.

Dean saw her smile slowly before reaching forward and resting her fingers on his forehead. He sagged in relief and relaxation at her touch. The two shared a moment of understanding. In his mind Castiel re-aligned the image he had of Anna. He trusts her enough to heal him, and he trusts her good intentions.

"Did I just witness something I shouldn't have?" Dean asked, from his perspective, that appeared rather intimate. Simultaneously Castiel responded, "I understand now," while Anna replied, "He's healed."

_'Yeah, 'cuz that makes much more sense.' _The urgency for time stopped him from complaining again. Which worked well because just then a groan floated across the room. All three sets of eyes turned. Castiel noticed, for the first time, a massive form barely able to fit on one of the two twin beds. The man was tall with a mop of brown hair. His forehead was damp with sweat.

Another groan issued from him, this time louder and laced with pain. The man remained asleep despite the discomfort. "Is he okay?" He felt stupid asking, because obviously something was wrong. Anna bit her lip and Dean looked moody at the question.

"He's recovering. We are helping him. " The red headed woman looked up at her brother and changed the subject, "Cassy, there's something happening in this city." She walked behind him and began to undo the handcuffs. Castiel felt the magical bond lift.

"The hell are you doing? Letting the guy free?" Dean clearly saw him as a threat.

"Yes," And to Castiel she said, "There's a cult here. It's growing. I think Michael knows, and somehow wants me involved." She paused to help him stand, "Castiel, I think this is something big." Her eyes, now so beautiful, were swimming with concern and earnest.

Castiel felt it was time for him to say his part, but he was hesitant to show his hand. She spoke encouraging words, "I know you've felt doubt. You doubt Michael is speaking for our Lord. You doubt the intentions of your brothers and sister. You hear hushed words, and hallow prayers. I know you doubt. I know. And it's okay."

"I will give you time to show me. To allow that we must dispatch of Uriel. He will not leave me, so long as I am alive."

Anna's smile tripled in size. "The cuffs. He won't be able to find you."

"You know I despise these abominations." Dean made a face. Abominations is a strong word to use. Castiel speaks as though he is from another time. His language expresses more emotion than his own face does.

"You have to trust me," She pleads.

"Prove it to me. Prove it to me that I can trust you." Hastily she grabbed the hunting knife out of Dean's jacket. She grit her teeth and slashed her wrist open, tearing the precious artery apart.

"Woah! Woah, Anna! What the hell are you doing?!" Dean immediately removed the knife from her grip, and tried to apply direct pressure to the injury.

"Stop." She pulled away and approached Castiel, her eyes steady and certain. "Heal me. I trust you. I believe in you Castiel."

Power exploded in Castiel's chest. His eyes glowed with it. He needn't even control the energy. Before his skin touched her, his Grace flowed out to reach her injury. She trusted him so deeply, his body was filled with it. It was only a few moments before she stood there, whole and healed. With no purpose anoymore the power dissipated quickly. The rush still remained. Adrenalin seeped into his blood. It was wonderful.

That was proof enough for him. Lightheaded from the power flux, he snatched the cuffs and put them on himself. Again Castiel was trapped within' his body. At least this way was more comfortable, hands infront of himself and loose enough to allow some movement.

Anna looked to Dean, "I'll tell Uriel that Cassy is dead, and make it appear as though I am fleeing the city. Stay here. Protect them."

Dean's alpha male ego began to rear itself when Anna flashed away. "Fine," Dean barked angrily at thin air. "You get ten minutes Anna!" He shouted, though she could no longer hear him. Castiel sat himself down again. He still felt light headed though it no longer had anything to do with chemicals. He was really doing this; he was actually disobeying. The instability he felt at the airport back home must have been a shock wave from this moment. He was actually doing this. His legs were shaking slightly, but a part of his soul needed answers. He can't keep living life with blinders on.

* * *

Strained silence ticked by before Dean couldn't take it anymore, "Cassy, huh?" He turned to the disgruntled Blue Eye.

The man made a complicated face. Annoyance, surprise, and resignation all bundled together as he responded, "It is Anna's endearment for me."

"How about I call ya Cas?" He stared at Dean, assessing the new nickname. His silence stretched a little too long and Dean began to shift uncomfortably. "Alright Cas. How's about you tell me what the fuck just happened between you and Anna," Dean sat on the edge of the occupied bed. Castiel sat with perfect posture on the wooden chair.

"A blue eye can heal anyone who trusts in them." He laced his fingers together comfortably, ignoring the cuffs. He had the appearance of a teacher talking to a pupil.

"So you two trust one another?" Castiel nodded gravely. "And so why couldn't you 'flash' to her before?" Dean had only a vague gist about blue eye abilities from Anna. He'd never actually sat down and had a conversation about it.

"In order to flash somewhere you have to know the place or the person. I knew her before. She's changed drastically. Her very core has developed into something new." Castiel's brow knit slightly, and he tilted his head as though struggling with his thoughts. "But she is still very much the same. In any case, I can reach out to her now."

"And this Uriel thug?" Dean stood and began to pace the room.

"He's our brother. He's.. dangerous." Cas chose not to elaborate.

"So you're all related?" In his head Dean compared their physical appearances. Shit didn't add up.

"Yes. Our family is extensive. Though Anna, Uriel and I are all distant cousins by blood, once we pledge ourselves to the church, we become brothers and sisters." Castiel's deep voice held no infliction. The concept of family and loyalty has been drilled into him, the weight of it like shackles. A concept he began to challenge.

"You're a priest?" Disbelief coloured his voice. Dean would have taken this guy for a soilder. Or a tax accountant. Or both.. Castiel is a difficult man to assess.

"Yes. Does this surprise you?"

Dean starts to pace, though his steps are uneven. His thoughts affecting him physically. "So... you do the church's taxes or somethin'?"

"This - this was impromptu." Castiel lifted the edge of his trenchcoat up, inspecting his disheveled appearance. The man on the bed moaned again, loudly. Guilt shot through Castiel. He'd been engrossed in his conversation with Dean, and forgot there was an ailing man only a few feet away. "What is wrong with him?"

"He's like Anna. He's Hazel eyes." Another pained cry filled the room. "Anna had to do this too. We just let them ride out the changes in their body." Dean's expression changed as the looked at the man. A kind of protective love shone through his bravado.

"Are you two a couple?" Tact never was Castiel's strong point.

"What? No, no man." Dean walked further away from the bed and looked nervous.

"I am not one to judge, Dean. There is nothing wrong with-"

Dean raised his voice, "No! Jesus, he's my little brother. That's Sammy."

Castiel dismissed the blasphemous term, and approached the bed to look at it's occupant. There was something of a family resemblance. Though that may just be the stubborn way they both had their jaw clenched. He reached his hand out. Dean took a step forward as though to protect his brother, and stopped. The priest laid his hand upon Sam's forehead and felt the fever burning beneath the skin. Without words Castiel began to tend to him. There was a cloth and water basin within' reach, so he partook. After wetting the cloth, he applied the cool water against Sam's forehead and cheeks.

Sam made a murmur and quivered. A pleasant change from the pained noises earlier. Dean couldn't believe what he was seeing. The only other person who'd been this unquestionably kind to him and his brother was Bobby. Hell, the dude was still in hand cuffs.

"It's been ten minutes." Castiel spoke, slowly going through the motions of soothing Sam. Both men knew ten minutes was a long time in a fight and both felt uneasy. Dean moved first and grasped the door handle. A breeze ruffled his short hair and he asked aloud "Anna?"

In the center of the room she materialized. Blood dripped from her lip. She couldn't seem to put her weight on her right leg and immediately her eyes rolled back into her head. Too fast for anyone to catch her, she collapsed.

"Oh, easy now." Dean consoled her as he and Cas worked in tandem to lay her across the second bed.

"He's gone. Thinks you're dead. Ahhh! Safe." As the words passed her lips, she fell unconscious. Castiel immediately held his hands out to Dean. The restriction was lifted and Castiel began to emanate light as he drew all of his power together. He focused on pushing everything through the palms of his hands. Castiel could tell, in the idle part of his brain, that he was lighting the entire room.

Dean had to block his eyes. It was so damn pure, and beautiful. Just standing near Cas made him feel unclean. When the light faded Dean looked upon Anna again. She was breathing steady. Castiel was slumped over as exhaustion took him. Dean looked around with survivours' guilt. Everyone in the room was defenseless, aside for himself. _'Time to get_ Bobby.' He decided._  
_

Dean checked Anna over quickly. Her pulse was strong. He was no longer spitting up blood. And the injured leg appeared to be a closed wound. Castiel had a strong pulse, and Sam was the same as he's been all day. Sweaty and unhappy. He repositioned his knife and drew his pistol. Dean locked the room and proceeded down the hallway. As he approached he stairs he set his weapon to condition I. As safely as possible Dean eased down the stairs. He loathed clearing spaces alone. There was no secure method, really.

After transitioning the stairs, he turned into the entryway where this whole mess began. Clear. His father's training eased through his mind. Find Bobby. He probably headed to confront Uriel, so he should be somewhere outside, maybe near the West Wing. Dean proceeded further along the corridor. Cleared the kitchen, then exited the building through the side door.

Immediately to the right, leaning against the wall was Bobby. The suddenness of it almost caused Dean to loose trigger control. "Christ Bobby! Get inside."

"We got 'im." The old man said while limping past. "The dumbass didn't think I'd be a threat."

"Good job. Want me to get ya a gold star Bobby? Anna still got injured." She looked stable on the outside, but Dean still wasn't sure if she would be alright. Between her and Sammy's conditions worry was starting to fray his resolve.

"Let's not play the blame game. She's a big girl, and I got there when I could." Bobby said with the tone of a father. "I'm injured too by the way. If you care."

Dean nodded his understanding. He couldn't say sorry, but he did toss Bobby his flask. Taking a swig for the pain, Bobby began to gingerly work his way to the staircase. Dean conducted a perimeter check and set the building's alarm system for the night. Blue Eyes could only flash in if they have a target. Uriel never entered the building, and according to Cas Anna had changed too much to find her. So the best he can do is keep his eyes on the only one they can reach: Castiel.

* * *

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Hope the plot makes sense so far. There's thoughts and ideas in my head the supplement the words on my screen; which clearly you my dear readership don't have. So if it doesn't flow together, let me know so I can fill in any holes I may have left behind.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean re-entered the room near the same time that Bobby did. Two of the three occupants were still unconscious. Castiel had put his cuffs back on, and was in the middle of giving Anna an examination. The belt to his trenchcoat lay gently between her teeth as he probes her leg. She is unconscious, so the action seems precautionary, so if she wakes from the pain she'll be less likely to bite and injure herself.

Bobby immediately went on the defensive. Trained reflexes cocked and aimed his shotgun in moments. Castiel looked up at the familiar sound. _'Right, Bobby.' _His mind was beginning to associate whiskey and shotguns with the man. Just as Castiel considered a defensive move Dean diffused the situation. "Bobby stop. We're good. He's good." He then grasped the barrel of the shotgun and lowered it. Bobby complied, his face marred with perpetual displeasure.

Bobby gestured to Anna, "How is she?" Unable to answer Dean looked to Castiel for a response.

"Stable. Her leg looks fractured at the shin. It's healing. I helped the best I could."

"Yeah helped us a whole lot by bringing that maniac here to begin with!" Bobby snapped at him. Sam moaned in pain again, drawing Bobby's unhappy gaze.

"I suggest you tend to your friend." Castiel turned coldly and tended to Anna. He was here for her, nobody else. The other two could take care of Sam this time. Cas stayed in the chair, back turned to the room, facing Anna for the entire night. Dean posted himself at the door. Bobby didn't feel right staying in the same room as a Blue Eye and settled himself downstairs. As he left Dean tried to get more information.

"What the hell happened out there Bobby?"

"Not sure, caught the tail end of it. You'll have to ask Sleeping Beauty." The old man said dismissivly and entered the hallway.

Throughout the night Dean barely got a nap. Neither Sam nor Anna awoke. He was unsure if Castiel ever slept. Either he had immense dedication to Anna, or he was capable of sleeping while sitting up. Perfectly still. Dean guessed it was the latter.

* * *

It was near five am when Dean decided he was too hungry to wait. He left the three behind to wander downstairs. Bobby was asleep at the desk, in what equated to the living room. In another hour and a half the 50-something boys here would rise. Almost a miracle nobody had last night. If Bobby had been allowed to fire his shotgun, surely they would have. This situation just sucks all around.

With Sammy out for the count, and Anna indisposed for however long, it left him and Bobby to manage the place. Dean tries the think of solutions as he checks the building perimeter again. The alarm was good. It seems they were left unmolested throughout the night. A portion of the weight on Dean's shoulders lifted. He padded into the kitchen, opening the fridge. To be more exact, he opened one of their three fridges.

None of them matched eachother. The majority of items in this place came from donations, or scraps. Dean grabbed a gallon jug of OJ. Closing the door, he took a refreshing gulp. Unexpectedly, Castiel stood only a foot away. The shock caused Dean to stumble backwards. Juice flooded his mouth and he coughed.

"Cas! Christ man, don't do that!" This guy is strange, sneaking up on people. Then looks so innocent, like it isn't weird.

"Be mindful of what you say." Castiel responded, changing the subject.

"What?" A change Dean hadn't understood.

"You should not speak blaspheme like that." His face and voice were serious as always.

Dean eyed the man before him. Cas' five o'clock shadow looked more like nine o'clock. A certain haggardness settled around his shoulders. It seemed like those intense blue eyes were assessing him as well. Having to break the stare Dean shrugged and turned away "You're the priest, not me. I'm not gonna worry about a god that doesn't worry about me either."

Concern flashed through Castiel, "You can be a pious and devout man. Your soul can be saved Dean." Without flinching Dean met Castiel's gaze again. So many words crossed his mind, all of the darkness he's seen. Evil he's mastered. Castiel saw wrinkles form around Dean's eyes as he strained against his thoughts. "You don't think you deserve to be saved." It wasn't a question. That bothered Dean. This stranger, seemed to be looking into his fucking soul with that damned stare.

"Ya gonna kiss or what?" Bobby's voice cut through the silence.

Dean stepped back and took another swig of juice. "Good to see you survived another night Bobby. What were you researching?"

Castiel tracked Dean's movements for a little while before he reorganized his thoughts and turned to Bobby. "Trying to find something better than those cuffs to keep him off the radar," Bobby explained. Surprised marred Dean's expression. That was unexpectedly thoughtful of the old coot. Even Castiel, who didn't always pick up on social cues, reacted to the news. "Don't think it'll look good to have a blue eyed stranger in handcuffs following you around like a love sick puppy. The boys'll get the wrong idea." There was an awkward pause where Dean wanted to say a witty comeback but couldn't form the words in time, "The boys will be up soon, and I may have found a solution."

Bobby brushed past the two and made himself some coffee. Dean moved on, replaced his drink and grabbed some cold pizza. Bobby seemed content with his own beverage. Castiel hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday. For brevity's sake he snatched up an apple and placed it in his coat pocket. He then joined the two in research.

* * *

"So apparently the spell that is on those cuffs is transferrable. Issue is that the cuffs then become useless."

Dean shrugged, "I can live with that."

"Alright we'll need an owl's feather, holy oil-" Bobby began to read off the list.

"Is there a way to adjust the spell?" Castiel stepped forward and observed the books laid out on the desk, "I need to avoid detection, not imprison myself in my own body." Bobby moved over and allowed Castiel to work. It was only a few minutes and he stood up, triumphant. "This should be it."

Both observers leaned over to read the new spell. "Cas, this is awesome!" Dean was impressed with the results.

"So you removed the output side of this and reduced the input, to almost nothing. But won't that leave the equation unbalanced?" Bobby was trying to figure out the subtly of it.

Addressing both men Castiel explained, "You see these symbols? You probably don't know them." Bobby's face went a bit red at the backhanded insult. Castiel carried on, heedless of his feelings. "It's Enocian. The holy language. It is used to control power as it flows into me. Such as Uriel seeking me out. It is the power of God. This portion is in Latin. It's demonic and used to control power as it flows out of me. This, I no longer wish to inhibit me. It is the power of Hell. Your power Dean. With this portion removed, in order to maintain balance I should find an portable, inconspicuous item that has passive Green Eye power." Silence passed as they all thought. "Otherwise I may explode violently."

Finally Bobby thought of the solution, "Dean." He didn't want to come out and make Dean sacrifice his keepsake. His necklace was special. It was his father's. Castiel turned innocent, hopeful eyes on Dean.

Of course Dean knew what had to be done. He knew right away, and spent the time trying to figure out another solution._ 'Fuuuuuuuuck' _

He spoke his disagreement, "There's gotta be another item."

"Not really Dean. Magical items aren't that common. Especially not passive Green Eye magic. That happens to also be conviently inconspicuous." Bobby argued.

Dean just shook his head 'no'. "Dean, please. It's just to keep me safe until we can figure this out," Castiel begged with his expression and words.

As he relented and pulled the pendant off Dean spoke, "I want this back."

Gratefully Cas accepted the item. It was Bobby's turn to speak next, "If ya need anything else, get it your damn self. I'm getting some food." and walked out.

Without delay the priest got to work. The cuffs clinking occasionally. He blended ingredients: a feather from a jar, oil, a parchment with script, and his own blood. Castiel had drawn an ornate blade across his upper forearm for the last ingredient. Cas then dropped the precious necklace into the mixture. Dean had to hold himself back in order to maintain his pride and not whine like a little girl over jewelry.

Smoothly Latin flowed from Castiel's lips. There was a small flash of smoke and the handcuffs fell from his wrists. Cas clutched the magically clean necklace and looked up at Dean as he slipped it around his neck. He didn't say thank you. Instead he nodded, and disappeared.

Dean, suddenly alone, sighed heavily. "You're welcome!" He shouted. Know Cas was probably with Anna and Sam right now. Above his head he heard a student's door open and shut. Sounds indicating the morning chaos was about to begin. And he wasn't the least bit prepared for it.

* * *

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I am on a Desitel kick. I have at least two more chapter's worth of material written on scrap paper. I'll convert it to text after my night shift. I hope you guys like it so far!


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel settled himself in the same chair. He wanted to sigh but held back. Dean's necklace was warm against him. Either from the spell or from Dean. Idly his fingers played with the medallion. He listened to Anna's breathing, smooth and soft. Sam's though still sounded laboured. Outside in the hall doors began to open and shut. Someone's radio switched on. Contemporary music reached his ears. Castiel easily forgot that this building had so many residents.

Just as he began to wonder about a resident happening upon their room, Anna awoke. It was a violent start. She flipped out of the bed into a crouch. Quickly she scanned the room for danger. Castiel remained still, not wanting to provoke her. "You are safe." His deep voice rumbled through the room. Embarrassed, she rose. Happily Cas noticed her stand with no help. "Your injuries?"

"Healed. Thank you. That must have been very difficult for you."

"It was nothing." Castiel dismissed.

She nodded then asked, "What time is it?"

Without looking at a clock he responded, "Near 0620."

"The day is about to start... So much needs to happen. Castiel! The handcuffs! We can't have Uriel coming back!"

He raised his hand to silence her, "I am protected." He pulled Dean's necklace into view. "I enchanted it. This way I have a less restrictive method to protect us."

"That's a good move you made." She paused a moment to switch gears, "I'm going to go and get ready for the children. Has anything changed with Sam?" The priest shook his head with a frown.

"Is he supposed to wake up soon?"

"It took me this long. So hopefully soon." Anna replied before leaving for her own bedroom.

* * *

Dean felt his headache throb. He suspected the pulsing vein on his forehead was visible. Between him and Bobby the group of 50 was split evenly. The first group was writing paragraphs in cursive. The other group was working on separate diagrams of the human respiratory system.

A young boy around 12 walked up to him, "Mr. W. I don't remember how to write the letter 'X'."

"John, where are your notes?" The kid seemed to realize the answer.

"Oh, right here." Dean breathed deep. _'He's just a punk kid. Patience.'_

"John, next time you ask for help make sure you need it. Help yourself first," Dean reprimanded gently. Anna walked in just as the boy returned to work. She handed Dean a cup of coffee, his first for the day.

"How's the baby sitting?" She inquired. It was fortunate that Dean had earned the boys' respect months ago, or else this understaffed situation could be far worse. Dean laughed a little at her question.

"I think I should be asking you that." He then added, "Where's the boy wonder?" The trenchcoated man had been following Anna around all morning. It was her day to cook and clean. Which suited Dean because he didn't want her to have more stress than necessary. Cas was irritating but didn't bother her at all. She is probably desensitized after all the years on the Holy Continent. Dean felt like part of it was a 'fish out of water' thing. Cas didn't seem to know what to do or how to prioritize his time without orders.

"He wanted to cook, so I let him." Anna replied lightly. Dean panicked at the idea. Does the guy even know how? Anna smiled at the expression and reassured Dean, "Don't worry. He has a recipe card. Cas is very good at following directions." She took a sip out of her own ceramic mug. Dean could smell the mild tea inside. If she had faith, then he would too.

"How's Bobby doing?" He asked curious. The man could teach, that wasn't a problem. It was the fact that his class size had more than doubled suddenly, and hid leg had been strained in the fight.

"Tired but well." Anna amused herself with reading the closest kid's handiwork over their shoulder.

"He's got math today right? Instead of Sammy."

She nodded, "I think the kids are beginning to ask questions about what's going on. At least Sam's getting better by the hour." then took another comforting sip. An older boy approached to have his diagram evaluated by Dean. Anna walked out and returned to the kitchen.

She entered chaos. Cheese was everywhere. The priest had been attempting to make mac and cheese. A portion of the wall was yellow, and the entire cook top was layered in a combination of ingredients. The boiling noodles were over flowing onto the electric coil. Anna gasped and rushed to turn the stove top off.

"I believe I misunderstood some of the directions," Castiel deadpanned. A part of him was ashamed, and another part frustrated. Anna quickly took over the situation.

"Okay. You can watch me cook, so you'll understand from now on." She wasn't angry. If anything it was amusing. Even Dean had predicted this disaster. It shouldn't be a surprise at all really. Cas helped her the best he could. He used the mindless tasks to focus on calming his emotions. The temporary peace that filled the school was a refreshing change from the stiff and anxious atmosphere he had with Uriel. Thoughts of Uriel reminded Castiel that everyone needed to discuss their next step once the children were asleep.

At a lull in the activity Cas spoke his concern, "We all need to meet and talk tonight." She paused in setting up the table, and nodded. "We have much to discuss," Cas clarified, his voice grave.

* * *

The priest stood in the corner and watched the chaos of Lunch as it ensued. Apparently the youngest eat first, and when done are ushered out for the next age group, and so on. There were only four groups that ate. It occurred to Castiel, that all these boys were surprisingly close in age. If he had to estimate between nine and fourteen. None older or younger. Were there age restrictions on this school? Or was there some sort of event that affected these families? Each child cleaned their own dish before they were allowed some play time. By the end of the meal, each child had some sort of recess to help digest the food before they returned to lessons.

As the kids played, and then returned to work Castiel assisted Anna with the next round of food preparations. And re-washing some of the less than stellar plates. Time seemed to flow by quickly after that, cooking became more logical as he observed. Though a lot of times she would ignore the recipe and decide on her own what amount of ingredient should be used, or for however long the food should be cooked. All of the intricacies that went into cooking chicken kinda astounded Castiel.

Someone at some point in time someone had dedicated themselves to finding the perfect way to prepare this. Out of all the infinite combinations possible, Anna had settled on this one. And as Castiel sampled the food, at her request, he found it truly delicious. This whole process. Idea. Everything, was new to him as well. Usually he ate with his brothers and sisters at the church. It was rarely more intricate than bread and soup. As he tasted this chicken, his body suddenly craved more. It wasn't just hunger. It was desire.

He had to fight this. Desire is bad. He can't yearn for anything. Castiel nodded and said, "I do believe that is the best chicken I have ever tasted." The compliment made Anna smile wide. She brushed off the comment, trying to humble herself.

"No, I have made much better. I would say this is an average meal." Again that desire surged against Castiel at the thought of this becoming the standard. His stomache growled in response. Anna heard it. "Oh! Cassy! I totally forgot to get you lunch earlier. All you've had is that apple. Here. Eat this." She broke away a portion of the chicken and ladled some broth over it. Then she picked out some of the veggies and placed them next to the meat. She set the plate down and went to prepare a drink for her brother. Castiel had to stop her. He couldn't cater to the desire he felt. If anything he should just have some bread, water, and fruit.

"Anna I can't."

"Of course you can, here sit." She placed a large glass down next to the plate. He sat and looked at the plate before him. The battle within' his head raged. He couldn't pull away and he couldn't come closer.

Anna watched him stare and asked, "Is it not good? I thought I had done a good job.. You don't have to eat it if it's that bad," When Castiel looked up she put on her most hurt expression, "I don't want to make you sick."

_'Oh no. How do I deal with this?' _Castiel had dealt with others crying, but only when confessing to him. He had never had to deal with making someone cry because of his actions. He could tell if he refused, it would hurt her deeply. There was a heavy and sad feeling that gripped his insides. It was cold and reached into his core. The feeling paled when compared to his need to remain pious with his meals.

Castiel looked constipated for a moment before he decided to accept the food. And the meal was glorious. Gone too soon. It was with true gusto that he consumed the chicken. Afterwards the feeling of satisfaction settled inside him. It was weird how he could nearly feel the nourishment enter his body. It was strange how he felt better after that meal. Like somehow something as simple as food could affect his mood. Normally he treated eating like a chore that needed to be addressed.

Anna tried not to laugh at Castiel's reaction. She remembered her first meal outside the church as well. She probably did the same thing with the same face. She smiled gently as she grabbed his dirty dish, "That's something of an experience, huh?" Castiel could only nod. He didn't trust himself to speak. Instead he stood and returned to helping Anna with the chores. He'd have to analyze that experience another time.

By the time Anna placed the last of the plates out, the first group of children poured in for dinner. Loud and just as chaotic as before. With the third wave of children Sam wandered in. Surprisingly alive, and unsurprisingly hungry. Anna obliged him and as inconspicuously as she could, checked him over to be sure he was alright.

He seemed like a normal person to Castiel. There didn't appear to be anything turbulent that would cause him to fall into a small coma. When he met Sam's eyes Castiel saw they were almost like Anna's. There is still a distinction between the blue and green, but where the colours met it seemed to merge naturally. "You know the sun will be setting soon." Sam commented. Castiel tightened his lips having no clue what the young man was referring to. Sam pointed to the top of his own head, "You don't need sunglasses at night."

Castiel reached atop his head and found through all the events in the past 24 hours, his sunglasses had yet to move off their resting place. He removed them and placed the items in his trench coat pocket.

"My name's Sam." Sam reached up from his seated position. Surprisingly he could still easily reach Castiel.

Castiel accepted the extended hand in a civil hand shake. The first one he's probably had on the continent. "I am Castiel," The priest felt the need to clarify his presence, "I am here for Anna." Their conversation ended there as the young man finished his meal.

Sam rose to clean his plate just as the last of the children rushed out to enjoy their temporary free time. "I'll catch you up on what's happened once I'm done here." Anna promised him. Sounded good enough for the young Winchester. As he walked out Dean entered with the last heard of student. Castiel could have sworn Dean was going to cry with relief as he saw his brother is awake and well.

"Sammy. You good? You get to eat?" Dean's brilliant green eyes shone as he smiled.

"Yeah I'm good. Ate some chicken. I want to go shower and stuff now. We'll talk tonight." Sammy promised him before walking off.

Dean's happiness set the tone for the rest of the meal. Castiel marveled at how this place swirled with energy. Voices and laughter echo through the halls. The first impression the priest had of this place was pleasantly spot on. It was pure. Good intentions and dedicated love built the foundations. And these boys seemed to be benefiting from all of the care.

Castiel had been told of the darkness the plagued the Emerald City. Yet it wasn't present here. He felt a sense of happiness that is rare in the Holy City. It was less manufactured, and felt more genuine. Children were ushered to their room to finish their evening writing and math assignments. The last of the kids quieted in sleep around ten at night.

* * *

Without prompting all the adults converged together in the large common room. Anna sat in the oversized chair with a far off look on her face. Sam sat beside her with a laptop, apparently catching up on everything he missed the past few days. Bobby sat behind the desk, looking up any information on the cult that he could find. Cas opted to stand. He thought on the flux in his emotions recently.

It probably began when Gabriel returned to the church. Seeing the changes in him. How he was more crude, childish, and rebellious. Yet happier. Gabriel seemed... real in a way. Not like something cookie cutter. A truly original, absolutely individual person. And now Anna. She's become so much more. It was hard for Castiel to look at. To understand. He wanted to try. He wanted to feel. To let himself be human. To do that he has to rebel against everything he's ever known.

Dean walked in clutching a sloppy burger in one hand, beer in the other. He munched happily as though nothing was wrong in his life. A small pang of jealousy stung Cas's heart. Dean. A prime example of everything he wanted to experience. All of the fire, energy, and emotions. Dean seemed to embrace them all. Vigorous for life. He watched as Dean took a swig of beer. Even something as simple as alcohol. He'd never drank before.

The green eyed man noticed the stare and smiled with a full mouth. The poor manners made Cas grimace a little. "So what's the game plan?" Sam asked from his seat. Sam moved to take charge of the discussion, despite being the youngest one there. He tried to sound serious and Castiel noticed his voice wasn't as deep as Deans, and sounded like a child compared to his own.

"Answers." Castiel responded, "If I am to continue turning a blind eye then I must know why I should." He tried to convey the importance of his presence. "In order for word to reach Michael of my alleged death, and for re-enforcements to arrive here will likely take until noon tomorrow. I recommend we leave before then." Castiel looked to Anna, then to Dean to be sure they were listening.

Dean asked Bobby, "You still got Rufus's number?"

"You want that crazy bastard to try and teach these kids?" Bobby opposed the idea immediately.

"He can help out somehow. At least he'll be useful, should more of those bastards show up." Dean reasoned.

"That's still my family you are talking about. Refrain from insulting them," Castiel loved his brothers and sister. He was just feeling estranged from them recently.

"Well your family are ... jerks." Dean said lamely and obviously ill-thought out.

Sam spoke up as though his brother wasn't embarrassing him, "Bobby we know enough people. All we really need is three. Rufus, Garth and Jo. Even Ellen could help."

"Why would we need three people?" Dean asked, even though he knew what Sam was already thinking.

"Anna's not going alone, and if you're going anywhere Dean, then I am too." He sounded resolved in his decision.

"You're needed here, and you're not exactly up to par at the moment." Dean finished his food and took an aggravated step towards his brother, "You just woke up from a mini-coma a few hours ago!"

"Look I feel fine. I think I have a handle on this. And I'm not letting you leave. We have enough people who will help. I'm coming along and that's final." Sammy was an adult and Dean knew he couldn't stop his brother. That doesn't mean he has to like it. The look Anna was giving Dean said _'He needs me around.'_

"Fine. Whatever." Dean caved.

"We have to figure out what the connection is between the cult and the church," Anna looked at Cas and said, "I'm not sure why they want me. But if I had to guess, it has to do with being Hazel eyed. And if that's the case, then Sam's in danger as well."

"But nobody knows about Sammy," Dean spoke up. Bobby stood up and walked over to a nondescript box on the bookshelf. He grabbed the contents and tossed them to Dean, Sam, and Anna. Castiel pushed off the wall and approached Dean to see the items. There were several I.D. cards, all with various names but had Dean's face. Falsified credit cards, and birth certificates were stacked neatly beneath those. Lastly there were false police and federal agent badges.

Castiel gave a disapproving huff but said nothing. Dean seemed to understand. "Look man, it's the only way to remain under the radar. Unless you want them to track us."

"Those are old. Worn out from use. Not new," The priest observed.

"How else do you think nobody knows about Sammy?" Dean countered.

"I'll have to take your picture tonight and send it to Rufus. He should have something ready by morning when he shows," Bobby said gruffly, already pulling out a phone to start his lengthy conversation.

Dean had one more thing to add, "Bobby, none of the kids should know what's going on but keep them restricted to the grounds until we say it's safe." Bobby made an annoyed face that said _'No shit ya idjit.' _and then started talking to his contact.

"C'mon Cas, let's get you cleaned up for the photo." Dean turned to leave taking another swig; having decided the conversation was over. Everyone split ways. Bobby was arguing angrily on the phone. Sam was off talking to Anna about his experience when unconscious. Dean lead Cas upstairs to his room... which ended up being the room Cas was already familiar with. The bed Sammy had been occupying was apparently his own. The brothers shared a room.

As Castiel occupied the bathroom he took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. There were still flecks of blood from the first time he was injured. His clothes were atrocious. His beard was also making itself known. Cas looked into his own eyes and asked himself if he was still sane. Is all of this an offshoot from his first injury? He could actually still be on the cold floor next to a dead body right now.

He clearly must be insane because until that moment, he'd forgotten about the _Dead Body_ left to rot, with no proper burial, in some filthy basement. The image of what the corpse must look like now made Castiel a little sick. After he was done grooming himself for an illegal I.D so he could hide from his own family and help a fugitive; he then had to make an anonymous call about the murder he was involved in. In only 24 hours he'd destroyed the foundations of his life. He wasn't even entirely sure all of it was wrong.

As Cas made himself presentable he wondered how murky the road before him had become.

* * *

Dean grabbed a basic button up shirt and jacket for Cas to wear in the photo. He couldn't look the exact same in his photo as he does now. It'd be suspicious. The rest of the time he was left to wait on the priest to emerge. He didn't have much else to do. Dean's mind drifted over possible contacts in the cult. At least contacts that he and Sam hadn't already interrogated. Next he thought of the best seedy hotel they could stay in. Idly he drank, until the beer was gone.

Dean lay back on his bed as exhaustion swept over him. One hand behind his head, the other resting on his stomache. He felt his gun press into his side. It was uncomfortable physically, but comforting mentally. Dean wondered if Cas was armed. Hell if he'd ever even held a gun. Dean took a moment to imagine the stuffy priest handling something like a shotgun. He smiled a little. Cas's expression probably wouldn't even changed as it kicked back. Maybe then he'd make some comment on how primitive the weapon is.

The door opened and Castiel walked through. He looked clean and far better. Dean propped himself up onto his elbows to see the results. As blue eyes met green, it was like the first time they met all over again. Both men held their breath. Dean was familiar with Cas by now, and yet he found himself memorizing the blue gaze boring into him. He couldn't look away. If Castiel could read into him, then Dean should be able to as well. He saw something pure and intense. There was passion, and no way to express it. Castiel was a pent up ball, waiting to release itself. There were churning thoughts behind that sharp blue.

An eternity passed before Dean could pull himself away. The tension still clung to the air in the space between the two men. Dean rose unsteadily and tried to ignore his frantic heartbeat. "Well you look good, enough. Get changed into this for the photo. We'll wash the clothes you have. And you can borrow something of mine for tonight." Dean gave him the breakdown.

Castiel stepped closer to Dean, and Dean stopped breathing again. The priest was only moving to grab the shirt and jacket off the bed. Cas gave Dean a small genuine smile, still standing in his personal space, before flashing away.

Dean blinked at the emptiness a few times before collapsing onto the bed, and scrubbing his hands across his face. He'd have to talk to Cas about respecting personal space. This was getting weird for the Winchester.

* * *

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I kept typing shot_fun_ instead of shotgun. I think that may be a bit of freudian slip. HAHA guess I need to get to the gun range soon.

I also heard some schools don't teach cursive anymore! Crazy right? So all my notes are written in cursive, just because, and trying to switch between cursive and print was a bit disorienting. Almost like translating. So that's the excuse I'm going to use for any grammatical errors in this chapter :P


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel finished the photos. During the entire time Bobby was looking at him as though the priest was the most inconvenient pebble in his shoe. Though he may not be the most aware person on the planet, even Cas could admit he enjoyed the brothers' presence over Bobby's.

The whole process was over in an hour. Two photos fully suited, one photo in only the button-up, and two photos wearing a normal tee-shirt. All of them were done in front of a white sheet hung on the wall. Oddly dressed in formal pants, and a loose t-shirt Castiel nodded slightly to show he appreciated the assistance. Without a word he focused on Dean and flashed to him. Castiel re-appeared only inches away from the man. He'd interrupted an argument between the two Winchesters and Dean's spirited face met his. Dean was shouting, "Come on Sammy!" With his hands spread out when Cas interrupted.

As a reflexive reaction to danger both men flinched back from the priest. Hands going to their concealed firearms.

"Cas! Stop doing that!" Dean snapped. Castiel gave his curious stare, as though he was intrigued in what this strange man had to say this time. That look just made Dean more upset, he wasn't the weird one here! "You can't just sneak up on people like that! And you gotta respect their personal space, man." Dean gestured a circle around himself that he considered his personal space.

Castiel took a measured step to the side, giving Dean just enough 'personal space'. "You do realize that I cannot control the proximity I have to a person when I flash."

"Wait, you don't?" That got Sam's attention. Anna had only been telling him how to maintain balance. He hasn't learned anything about his blue eyes abilities yet.

"No. The better we know a person, then the closer we re-appear to them. That's why before I tried to flash to Anna's location, but only re-appeared in the hallway. I wasn't fully aware of the person she had become." Castiel told Sam directly.

Dean shifted on his feet and wanted to change subjects. The implications that this stranger already knew _Who _he was as a person didn't settle well in his stomache, "Alright, Chatty Cathy. You two can have your pillow talk later. We have to get ready."

"Why? What's happened?" Castiel asked, he ignored the strange statement. He wasn't a pillow case.

"Dean got a call from someone we trust. Apparently a whole bunch of your family have boarded a flight over to Emerald City. They're moving faster than anticipated. We have to move out tonight." Sam's reply was curt and overly authoritative. Probably due to the disagreement he'd had with Dean before.

"Do you have a destination in mind?" Castiel's mind was already running a thousand miles a minute. He was trying to evaluate who the new team would consist of. Their strengths and weaknesses compared to his own. Each moment panic steadily grew in his mind.

"Yes," Sam looked at his brother, "And we have to leave now."

"What about the kids, Sammy? The school? What, just leave them unprotected for these goons to sweep down to interrogate everyone?" Dean's eyes blazed as his emotions stirred the power within' him.

"We'll get Ellen, Jo and Garth to come by tonight. And that way Rufus has time to make the IDs. Drop them off at our hotel, then come here to help out." Sam responded in kind, and began to raise the temperature of the air around him. Almost the way a haze of heat rises off of asphalt, the air seemed to move off of Sam in small waves. Sam continued to ignore the fit his older brother was about to unleash, "Either way. Bobby's a grown man Dean. He can take care of his own. We need to get the hell outta here, unless you want to have another set back."

Cas closed his eyes and prayed, _'Anna, this is Castiel. You need to be in Dean's room, now.' _

Before the priest could open his eyes he could already feel Anna's presence. She quickly assessed the situation and stepped close to Sam to draw his attention, "Sam. Sammy. Look at me. What are you doing?"

"He's trying to convince me to abandon the people who rely on us," Dean answered the question that he wasn't asked.

"We are not abandoning anyone! There's enough time for the others to show up. I'm trying to be smart here Dean." Sam shouted over Anna's head.

Dean's anger was becoming palpable as well. Though for Dean it was different. It was as though Castiel could feel the pressure inside the man build like volcano that would soon erupt. This was his first brush with Green Eye power. The power of Hell.

It sent a slight chill down his spine, despite the heat.

"No, Sam. You're letting Dean throw you off balance. You're burning the floor. Look." Anna pointed to the black scorch marks on the wooden floor. It radiated in a circle around Sam. Castiel looked beneath Dean and didn't see any markings. Apparently the elder Winchester has better control.

"Yeah Sam, calm down. We'll be staying the night anyways." Just like any older brother, Dean couldn't help from getting the last word in. His voice was a bit taunting.

"No. I agree with Sam," Castiel spoke up, "The more distance we can put between us and them, the better. I trust the quality of this protective spell, but I can not guarantee that we will not be tracked by more conventional means. Leaving is the most logical plan." The priest looked to Anna for confirmation. She realized he was awaiting orders from someone who used to be his superior.

"Look. Just-" She sighed, "Sam calm down. Dean we need to leave. Please go tell Bobby about the change in plan." She intentionally did not address Castiel. She couldn't encourage his close minded way of thinking.

To Dean it seemed as though all of his friends turned on him, and Sammy's having a goddamn melt down. He was not left with very many options and he was not happy about it."

"Fine! Get your shit together," Dean smoked himself out of the situation. Castiel felt the increasingly familiar warm breeze pass him moments later.

A few minutes later had Sam sitting in a chair, focused on his breathing. Anna stood patiently by. Castiel just had to ask, "Is it always like this?"

She looked up, not understanding the question out of context. Castiel gestured to the now quiet Winchester, "Is it always so chaotic. And-" He struggled to with the correct adjective to describe the relationship between the two brothers, "Messy?"

She never responded. Only laughing heartily, and turning to her protegee.

* * *

There was a flurry of movement over the next half hour, as all four adults packed their things and prepared for the next step: Running away.

Dean was clearly disgruntled with the decision. Bobby was just disgruntled in general. Anna was a touch anxious and quiet. Sam was energized and eager. Castiel though, was unemotional. Watching all the people around him interact and make decisions. The priest felt a weird sense of detachment. He had no instructions, so what does he do? He watched all the life happening around him. Silent and unnoticed. He observed as each of his new allies interacted with one another. Their egos clashing and merging. Everyone seemed to navigate around each other almost like dance that Castiel had yet to learn.

Eventually the four were ready to move out. Anna had thoughtfully packed a small bag for Castiel consisting of left over toiletries, along with some of Dean and Bobby's old clothes. Sam and Dean had prepacked bags for emergencies and Anna was ready shortly after the brothers. Bobby insisted that the group leave as soon as possible. He'd contacted Garth and Ellen. Jo would make it over by morning. By this time it was nearing midnight. Apparently Rufus was the only one that was exceptionally pissed off at the last minutes requests. Not much of a surprise considering his cantankerous nature.

Everyone agreed on radio silence, and only contacting the school if something went horribly wrong or vice versa. The best motel was located at least an hour away at the far end of the city. The group moved out into the dark city using Dean's Impala. The tension in the car was almost palpable. Even Cas realized that talking was not an option and remained silent.

As they reached the seedy hotel Anna rushed off to procure the rooms. She came back and handed Dean one of the keys.

"Let's settle our game plan first," She suggested as Dean opened the door to the first room. Anna had been smart to obtain a room on the first floor at the far corner of the building. Which also was the nearest to the parking lot exit. Dean's room was situated directly next to it. A quick egress was feasible from there.

Dean dumped his bag on the first bed and sat next to it. He instructed his brother in a voice gruff from exhaustion, "Sammy, you'll stay with Anna tonight." The younger Winchester went to protest but was stopped by his older brother, "Don't fight me on this. You have only been awake for half a day. Just, stay with her until you're back to full speed."

Sam wanted to protest, honestly he did. Something in Dean's eyes made him comply. There was deep concern and just enough stubbornness. It was late and everyone wanted some rest. Especially Dean and Cas, having spent the previous night mostly awake. Another fight was not worth it.

Everyone situated themselves in the room in a loose circle. This time Castiel sat down gratefully and started the conversation, "So what do we know?"

Anna started rambling off information, eyes half lidded with a lack of focus, "We've heard this cult originated about 7 years ago by some small time Green Eye man. He wanted some kinda alternative worship for Lucifer. Almost like the church, but exclusive. Now we know an up comer named Alistair is running the show. It was under him that Sam and Dean were attacked."

That was new information to Cas. He looked up to Sam, who was closest, for an explanation. Sam cleared his throat awkwardly before saying, "Yah, our father was taken. We were looking into the cult. Trying to get him back, when I started to change." Shamefully he then said, "We had to stop."

Anna cut in, giving Sam a break, "We already know Alastair's our target. He's been on a converting spree. It's almost a join or die situation. The boys at the school had families that were faced with that decision. Everyone child there is an orphan."

Dean decided he wanted to add to the story, "Half of them were attacked at their old school. A lot of those boys grew up together." Obviously a part of the man's mind was still concerned that the event may occur again. That the Blue Eyes will destroy something so precious and he won't be able to help. The air in the room was solemn.

"Anna, I assume you've taught them to hide their thoughts from intrusion?" Castiel spoke up. He probably should have mentioned it before, but he'd trusted Anna to have made proper preparations.

She nodded slowly. "They won't stand a chance against anyone as good as Zackariah, but if it's someone simple like Uriel or Naomi, they will be fine." She finished her sentence with a yawn.

Dean opened his bag, drawing out a bottle of whiskey. He then found a glass and started his first drink as added to the conversation again, "So we're gonna stop this bastard. He's been killing innocent people."

"Isn't this a job for your authorities?" As he spoke Castiel thought of the phone call he had to make, that kept getting delayed.

"It's just as corrupt here now, as it was during the war." That response made Castiel frown. The war between Blue and Green was the most bloody conflict in history. It was over 80 years ago, and there's still echoes of the resentment in the world. That's why people never learned about the other cultures when growing up. It wasn't legally segregated, just socially. And if Dean was correct about the corruption, then a large scale conflict may be on the horizon.

Concern churned in the priest's gut. He felt the need to ask, "Do you think his ultimate goal is another war?"

Dean smiled in a dark way, "That. Or general power and world domination-y things."

"How does this cult spread? Someone take a vow? Brainwashing? Physically held prisoner?" Cas prompted.

His questions were followed by an awkward silence. Sam was the one to speak, but he didn't look up from the table top. "If someone wants to join they take a vow, then receive a brand on their chest. They then stay for six months of 'Training'. Probably brainwashed, like you suggested. If someone is unwilling though," Sam stopped and took a deep breath. It seemed like he wanted to stall for a moment, "They are held captive and the cult tries to combine torture with brainwashing. Once they're done, the person is branded. One of two things occur. You stay and succumb, or they kill you."

"Why brand them before offering the option?" Castiel asked curiously. Disregarding the gruesome aspects of the information and looking at it logically.

"It's- it's part of breaking them mentally. Also, when branded bodies are found, the cops know to ignore it." Sam finished. He looked more tired than he was before he started talking. Castiel needed to remember to ask more on the topic later. By this point Dean had finished his first shot of whiskey, and was pouring himself more. The glass tinking was the only sound for a few moments.

Castiel was aware that his staring at the now silent Sam was considered impolite, so he stood and began to wander the small room. His hands reached out to fiddle with random objects. He changed the subject and kept the conversation going, "So what is the best source of information on the cult?"

Dean responded with another smile; his voice a bit deeper from the alcohol's burn, "The bastard's name is Devron."

* * *

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I would add the next bit, but I'm more tired than these guys are right now. As always, please review.


	10. Chapter 10

"Devron?" Anna echoed the name back. Seems she was unfamiliar.

"Yeah he's down on South. Been with the cult for years now. And he's a good choice for information. The people in the cult seem to deal with him, rather than enjoy his presence. Chances are we'll be able to capture him for interrogation with relative ease," Dean clarified.

Sam knew who Devron was, "Dude's bat shit loco. Didn't he get charged with cannibalism a few months back?"

"Yeah. It said he was acquitted a few months back when a witness came forward at the last-minute," Dean replied.

"Probably another cult member," Anna quickly caught on to the conversation.

"So what do we know about his location?" Castiel asked.

"I know where he squats at. I say, Anna and I smoke in and scope the building out. Then we can decide the best way to take it. I'm willing to bet there won't be any more than three baddies in there. Between all of us that should be easy," Dean clearly had thought this out before this conversation came up. He took out his pistol and set it to condition III in preparation for bed.

Castiel looked a little awkward. This is a subject he wasn't familiar with. All of it was sneaky and subversive. He is always straight forward. This includes combat. He's never relied on tools to defend himself either. His own strength and god given grace was all he'd needed.

Dean felt himself smirk. Looks like was going to get an answer to his earlier question. "Cas, if we do this there will be guns," Dean made eye contact wanting to see his reaction, "Can you handle a weapon? Do we need to worry about you?"

That ruffled Castiel's feathers. His pride bruised at the idea that he was less than capable, "I am proficient in combat."

Castiel could hear Sam rise even though the Winchester tried to remain silent. The priest knew the brothers would want a demonstration of his capabilities before they trusted Cas with their lives. He pretended to act unaware of Sam and responded to Dean, "I have no need for a gun."

Sam took a swing at Cas. Without looking the priest caught Sam's fist. Castiel squeezed, using impressive strength to twist Sam in his grip. The tall man stumbled and landed on his knees. Cas kicked his shoulder hard enough to knock him over onto his back. The priest felt Dean's hand clasp on his shoulder, barrel of the pistol was pushed against his head.

Castiel reacted. He flashed to Dean's right and seized the gun's pistol grip. Cas noticed the pistol had it's safety on, and Dean's finger was straight along the barrel. So this was a test as he'd thought. Quickly he twisted and applied force to Dean's wrist. Now the weapon was under Castiel's control. Dean's arm was trapped at an awkward backwards angle, bent so his elbow and shoulder were useless. The angle forced his shoulders downward a little, making him lean forward unnaturally.

Calmly Dean instructed, "Now that you have positive control, disarm the weapon." His tone was conversational and didn't appear strained.

Okay this part wasn't his strong point. Normally he'd just remove the weapon and that was it. He'd never rendered the weapon useless before. He did recognize the magazine release button, and hit it. Expectedly the magazine dropped all the rounds on the floor. Then he froze. Unsure of the next step.

Sam stood and smiled at the priest, impressed. Sam is a big guy. It's not an easy feat to make him buckle. Anna rose from her seat, "Okay me and Sam will get a few hours rest. You can review basic weaponry with Cassy. We'll all be up by 0530?"

Still in a prone position Dean replied, "Yeah, see ya." He was trying to surreptitiously free himself while the priest was distracted. He was failing.

Anna was already out the door, eager to sleep. Dean spoke up just before Sam departed, " 'Ey Sammy, don't get her pregnant ya hear?"

Sam gave a quick quirk of a smile at the jibe. His mixed eyes darted to Cas pointedly before saying, "Be sure you don't get pregnant either."

Dean realized his incapacitated position wasn't exactly manly and finally tapped out against Castiel's hand. Once released he stood straight he threw out, "Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam grinned. Both brothers were amiable as the door shut. All of that night's fighting washed away and forgiven.

* * *

The complexities of the Winchester's relationship eluded the priest. How were they happy about insulting one another? Before he could address the questions he formed, Dean started talking again, "We'll go over the pistol now, and then again in the morning. If we have time I'll also go over the shotgun later."

Cas still has reservations about handing guns. Much less learning the intricacies of their mechanics. On the other hand, he knew that it was good information to have anyways. Especially if his companions were going to utilize them. Dean grabbed a towel from the bathroom and laid his pistol on it's side on the bed. Castiel could see the safety was on, and the load indicator showed a round was chambered.

Both men sat opposite one another, the pistol pointed away from both of them. Dean took a moment of silence before he field stripped it as quickly as he could. It startled Cas at how many parts were actually involved with such a small firearm. It wasn't many, but at the same time it was more than he'd anticipated. When finished Dean smirked to himself, proud of his efficiency.

The two men spent the next 45 minutes slowly reviewing each piece, it's purpose, and how to assemble it. Then after practicing with an empty mag. they moved on to stripping the weapon. Castiel was a fast learner and was able to strip the weapon almost perfectly the first time. It took only 15 minutes before he proved himself proficient.

"Good, Cas," Dean praised. "How's about we sleep now, and in the morning we'll do a quick review. I'll show you a few of the best ways to strip a weapon when in combat."

That idea Castiel could more than agree with. It was nearing 0100, and they needed to be up in 4.5 hours. It seems Dean has the same drive for mission accomplishment that Cas does. Sleep is only a necessity, and not something to be indulged. Castiel grumbled some sorta response that came across as an agreement.

Dean re-assembled his pistol. He chambered a round and left the safety on as he placed it under his pillow. Neither man was concerned with appearances. Each stripped to a t-shirt and boxers and hastily climbed into bed. Despite the poor condition of the beds, and the somewhat strange smell of the room both men fell asleep quickly.

* * *

Neither man dreamed, it was a dark exhaustive sleep that claimed them both. An alarm on Dean's phone broke the silence. The shrill and unpleasant noise startled the two awake. Each man had strong responses to the noise. Dean drew his gun and pointed it at the phone. A part of his mind wanted to pull the trigger, even after he'd identified it as his own. Castiel's reaction was to flash himself out of bed, and directly next to the door. Allowing himself the opportunity to quickly exit. There was a moment when both men felt silly as Dean reached to disable the aggravating noise.

The day's first words were Dean's, "If you don't start walking you'll get flabby," He addressed Castiel as the priest returned to his small bag of items.

The priest gave Dean an unpleasant glower before shuffling into the bathroom for a morning shower. He snagged the free conditioner and shampoo and cleaned himself. He took the time to align his thoughts for the day. Mentally he reviewed the things Dean had taught him. He also steeled his resolve for probable combat. He stepped out of the hot shower after only a few efficient minutes to shave, brush his teeth and dress in his usual clothing. He mentally sent Anna a small prayer thanking her for cleaning his clothes. He didn't receive a response but that was okay.

When he stepped out Dean was already dressed, opting to skip the shower. Dean quickly addressed Cas, "Let's review the pistol until Anna and Sam are ready." Castiel assumed food would come into play once everyone was up and moving.

Castiel quickly stripped and re-assembled the weapon correctly on the first try so they moved on to applying the information in combat. Dean took the position of a more average baddie. Slowly, step-by-step the two practiced what the best steps were. The first thing Castiel needed to remember was to move the muzzle away from himself, and to be sure he doesn't re-direct it towards someone else. All the time avoiding getting bitten by the slide should the baddie fire in surprise.

Next he needed to see the load indicator to see if a round was chambered, and usually it would be. If so then he'd have to eject the round _and _remove the magazine. It's a lot of steps. So to make all of them easier, he needed to just assume full control of the weapon, then take the steps to disarm it. This was unless, and Dean stressed this point, he wanted to use the weapon himself in which case he could skip the disarming steps and merely assume possession.

Castiel never agreed to anything and instead absorbed the information as it was given to him. Dean clearly had lots of exposure to firearms and it's handling. Castiel added weapons proficiency to his list of_ 'Things Dean Can Do That I Can't And Am Slightly Jealous Of'_ list. The rate at which that list was growing was a bit concerning.

It took them about 20 minutes to fully explore the basics. Castiel really was a quick learner. It was 0530 as they finally moved on to shotgun basics. Seeing as how the priest understood the pistol well enough, a shotgun would be even easier. The only kind Dean had in his bag was sawed off, but the functions weren't affected by that fact.

Cas just wouldn't get a real feel for the weight of a normal shotty or get the feel for the kick back without firing. At least he could get an idea of it's functions. "This'll have to do," Dean said as he passed the weapon over.

"What's wrong with it?" Castiel felt the need to ask.

"Nothing, you just won't get the ability to experience this properly. We can't really fire it here," Dean explained.

Castiel figured this was a good segue to introduce him mentally. "Then just think of the last time you fired. I'll observe it," Castiel explained simply. He would enter Dean's thoughts and not only obtain information, but also allow Dean's mind to accept his presence. For some reason this seemed important to the priest.

Dean looked a bit wary, but closed his eyes and did as instructed without complaint. It helped that he'd been introduced to mental intrusion by Anna. He seemed to keep forgetting Castiel had the same capability.

Castiel reached out and gently touched the man's forehead. He didn't have to, but it provided a clearer link. Castiel saw himself in Dean's memory. They were in a dirty broken down building and Dean had a furious green eye man charging at him. In slow motion he placed himself in Dean's position and felt himself pull the trigger. The weapon pulled upward and buried itself into his shoulder, right into space between his socket and collar bone. The feeling was not comfortable, but not horrible.

He saw as the projectile scattered into smaller fragments before it buried itself into the enemy. The force of it knocked the man back. Several puncture wounds made itself present on the man's chest. Dean's mind didn't supply a name for the target. As the memory faded he pulled back out of Dean's mind a little and allowed himself to just remain as a non-threatening presence. He tried to convey, without words, the idea that Dean should be familiar with him so that way if he reached out to Dean in the future it wouldn't be such a shock.

Dean seemed to accept it for a little while. There was silence between the two. Each adjusting to the others existence. There was little other way to explain it. There's a lot that composes a person, even in a general sense, these few moments were like reading a resume. Each man got a general idea of one another. The seconds passed and they pulled away at the same time. Opening their eyes to the world again.

It was a peaceful feeling and smoothly they moved into the more detailed steps of handing the shotgun. Just as they were reviewing how to combat load and it's advantages, Sam and Anna entered. Both seemed a bit groggy, but fully dressed and ready to go.

Sam smiled fondly, "Combat load? Saved my life a few times."

Dean nodded but cut off the training and changed the subject to food, "Ready for breakfast? I think there's a diner between us and Devron."

He walked away from Castiel like he was never there. Something stirred in the priest, but he smothered it. No time for feelings now. He'd deal with that later. Right now they have a job to do.

* * *

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So the group's about to go into ass kicking mode. I'm assuming from the show that the boys get as much sleep as I normally do. So until they catch a break, they're gonna have long days.

Hope you enjoyed, drop a review before you go!


	11. Chapter 11

This one's a long one and filled with some pretty gory shit. Brace yourselves.

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* * *

All four groggy people made a quick stop to eat at the local dive. The meal was quick and greasy, but all four walked out eager to start their task. As the other three people climbed into the Impala, Castiel borrowed Sam's cell phone to place the anonymous 9-11 call. He'd already put it off for too long.

A part of him started to view the report as a chore. His traditional values scolded him for degrading a man's rites as a 'chore'. It took longer than Dean wanted, and he hit the horn just as Cas hung up. To make the impatient man shut up, Cas flashed into his seat to save the whole minute it would take to climb in. Soon enough they headed out to the evil liar, as Dean named it.

Castiel insisted he still didn't require a firearm for the exchange after both Sam and Anna offered him one. They parked about 2 blocks from the target's apartment where Dean and Anna smoked out, leaving Cas and Sam behind. Almost immediately Sam turned to the priest and began to drill him for information.

"Tell me about your abilities. What's the best one? Which one do you use the most? Is there anything you can show me right now?" Sam's eagerness was unexpected.

"Has Anna not taught you anything?" Castiel was suspicious of Sam approaching him in Anna's absence. Like he was a kid asking his uncle for candy when his mom's gone.

"She's too worried about me. Same with Dean. I'm ready to learning about my blue grace. I'm in my late 20s already. I've long been responsible for my own actions," Sam argued, "So can you help me Cas?"

Dean would be pissed if he did. Anna would be worried. Castiel decided to help anyways. Afterall, he felt a compulsion to help his new friend. Maybe the next time Sam gets into a fight with his brother, he'll have another outlet for his emotions. Maybe he could flash away instead of burning up the floor. Honestly a part of the priest wanted to show the good that can come with grace. To expose Sam to something more divine. Castiel sighed.

"What do you know about reading thoughts?" The priest created a vivid image of a banana in his mind.

There was a moment as Sam scrambled his memories together, "I know what it feels like to have Ann in my mind. But I've never managed to read someone else."

"Try me," Castiel opened his mind as much as he could manage while holding onto the banana image.

A few moments passed with Sam concentrating. Eyes scrunched in focus. Yet he couldn't seem make a connection. Castiel was seated in the back, and Sam was riding shotgun. The younger man was turned around to face the back seat. Castiel gently grabbed Sam's hand. He folded Sam's into a fist, and extended only the pointer and middle finger straight. Castiel then guided Sam's two extended fingers to his own forehead.

"Try to relax. You don't have to force anything. It will be natural for you. Extend your senses along your hand and through your fingertips. I'll let you try on your own before I coax you into it," Castiel instructed. He'd never really taught anyone how to do this. He was trying to explain the way it felt to him.

After a moment there was something that happened. Yet, even with his mind open and the image blaring Sam was still unsuccessful. There was a sort of fuzziness at the edge of Castiel's awareness. Probably from the young man's attempt. It looks like he'd have to hold Sam's hand, physically and otherwise, to guide him. So Castiel informed him as much, "Sam I'm going to guide you. Please don't fight me."

As gently as he could Castiel pushed into Sam's thoughts. It is normally a very simple thing to accomplish, and forcing himself to slow down was unexpectedly difficult. The best equivalent description Cas could create is like wading through water, thick yet fluid. That also had a curtain affect where it could be pushed aside in layers. After a several moments the priest finally emerged in Sam's awareness. He thought to the man _'Follow me'. _

Without much of a pause he began to retreat on the same path back to his own mind. In a movement that probably looked awkward to any onlookers, Castiel reached his hand up and touched Sam's shoulder, slowly he ran his hand along Sam's extended arm. He was trying to gently encourage Sam to follow him along the path he'd instructed. Hopefully the physical sensation of pressure along his arm would help Sam utilize the bridge his arm was creating.

Castiel felt the Winchester follow his prompt. Castiel's hand reached Sam's just as the younger man broke through the priest's awareness.

"A banana," Sam whispered shakily.

_'Good. You're correct. Now what do you see?' _Castiel thought the words and then created an image of Dean with his eyes blazing.

"D-dean," Sam said slightly louder. Voice still uneven from strain.

_'Now tell me something without words.' _Castiel instructed. The priest's hand was still wrapped around the Winchester's, holding the physical connection in place.

_'This is intense.' _Sammy managed to churn out the words. One syllable at a time.

"Now pull away gently," Castiel said out loud. He pulled his hand away from Sam's and slid back up Sam's arm to his shoulder, again encouraging the path his mind needed to travel.

Dis-connecting was much easier, unsurprisingly. Finally Sam opened his eyes, and Castiel caught sight of the fading glow from his hazel gaze.

"That was amazing!" Sam gushed. "I don't know if I could have done that without you helping me," He admitted truthfully.

Castiel felt there was more Sam wanted to say, so he remained quiet. After a few seconds he was proven correct. "So how come I only saw images?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Castiel replied.

"Well, I was in your head. Everything that you are is in there, and all I saw were a few images," Sam explained.

"You were only at my Ego. That's the more superficial part of the mind. It's filled with images and thoughts that I control. The deeper levels of a person's psyche are out of your reach right now," Castiel instructed his temporary pupil, "If you wandered that far, you may get lost and never return."

Sam mulled over what he had just experienced, and gave a shy glance at Castiel before straightening out in his seat. "I really appreciate your help. I think you've shown me so much more than I expected. Can you tell me about some of the other things I'll be able to do, you know, in the future?"

Castiel didn't see the harm in talking. Afterall he'd already crossed the line, and probably stepped on Anna's toes. The next five minutes or so Castiel gave a quick review of what almost every blue eye is able to do. Sam made a comment on the lack of offensive capabilities. Whereas, green eyes seems to be all about offense.

* * *

With perfect timing the car filled itself with a warm gust of wind, and slowly Dean and Anna reappeared in their seats. Dean's smile was eager and Anna seemed to have an excitement about her.

Dean turned to Sam, "The guy's totally alone, and there's only two exits. This is perfect." He turned back to Anna and Cas, "Sam and I will restrain and interrogate him, and you two can cover the exits."

Castiel was not okay with that, "I wish to be there for the interrogation."

"Why? Sam has more experience. We've done this before," Dean defended his judgement.

"Because I am here on trust alone, and I have questions that need to be answered," Castiel rose to the challenge, though internally a part of him felt baseless. Almost thinking _'Who am I to question? I am a nobody. And nobody is here to support me.'_

Anna seemed to notice Castiel waver. She sent an encouraging thought, _'You tell him Cassy.'_

Dean opened his mouth to argue and was stopped. "No. I will be there to interrogate," Castiel's tone was resolute. Which was really something considering he was a natural bass. Dean's lack of response was taken as an agreement, and all four adults moved out of the car and in through the back entrance.

That was the second time he's been pushed around lately, and Dean was going to make sure that this interrogation went the way he wanted it to. He used his pent up annoyance to feel his fuel. Devron was screwed.

* * *

Just as Dean and Anna promised, there were no uglies en route to Devron. The building looked innocent enough. There were a few empty offices, and nothing overtly suspicious. In fact, as each room was cleared, Castiel began to wonder if they had made a mistake or somehow misjudged their target.

Anna and Sam posted guard on the first floor. Castiel promised them, "We will pray once we know what's going on," as he progressed onward with Dean. The two men cleared the second floor quickly and began on the final floor. This area seemed more residential, though most doors were not even in their frame. The walls were unpainted and stood as bare drywall.

Distinct signs of life were evident at the final apartment. A trash bag sat outside the door in the main hallway. Dean nodded to Cas silently before he charged the front door.

Devron was just walking out of the barthroom when Dean entered the space. The unsuspecting man froze for a moment, assessing who Dean was. It was then he noticed the pistol in Dean's grip.

"Devron! We need to talk," Dean's commanding voice rang in the space. Behind him Castiel chose this time to enter. He remained by the doorway to block the exit. On instinct Devron blacked out the 10 foot area surrounding him. Dean was enclosed in the inky darkness. This ability Castiel had only heard about. The thick black 'fog' seemed to envelop all light. Unwilling to enter the area, Castiel tried to seek out Dean's and Devron's consciousness to try and asses what was happening.

He felt Devon's thoughts above them, almost against the ceiling. He realized Devron must have smoked in an attempt to slip past them. "Dean!" He warned, "He smoked. Above you!"

The news actually made Dean happy, despite loosing his sense of sight. He didn't need to see in order to do an upward burst of flame. "Cas, get down," He holstered his pistol and summoned his heat. The hell fire inside him kindling to life. Quickly he aimed his hands upward to produce a wide sweeping flame through the gaseous air. Castiel felt the temperature in the small space rise drastically.

He dropped to a crouched position but chanced a glance upward. He was rewarded with the sight of flames licking out of the darkness. The source was unmistakeable. Moments later the black receded and Devron stumbled back into solid form. Dean stood proud, exactly where Cas left him. He closed his eyes to focus and he quenched his flame. Encouraging the flame to life was natural for him. Ending that life, and dousing his flame took more focus.

The space became safe again. Castiel snagged the nearest chair and dragged it over to the burnt heap of a man. Dean hauled Devron up and working together the target was securely tied down into the chair.

Dean insisted on tying Devron's hands in just a way the he was stuck cupping his own testicles. "Don't make that face. This way if he tries to heat up, he'll end up burning his own balls before he burns us," Dean explained.

It was sound, but archaic logic. Castiel could sense amusement rolling off of Dean as he explained. In any case Devron was restrained. Castiel closed his eyes and prayed to Anna momentarily, _'We got him,'_ was all he passed.

It seemed Dean needed some urging, "Pray to Sam. Tell him that we have Devron," Dean made an expression as though he doubted Castiel's request would work. In a childish manner he closes his eye and holds his hands out palms up while praying aloud, "Oh Sammy, my baby brother, who art guarding my ass. We have our target. Rodger, copy all. Out." His own silliness makes him smile. Castiel stands by observing Dean's ease in such a violent environment.

That task done, Dean turns to his captive cult member, "So Devron. You ready to talk?" Castiel looked over Devron. He seemed to have second degree burns on his left arm and left outer thigh. There was a nasty third degree burn across his left hand. Probably causing crippling damage. Something like a sunburn darkened his face.

Devron moaned in pain rather than answer. "Good because me and my friend here need some answers. For example, tell me what you know about Alistair," Dean began the questions easy. Devron looked at Dean for the first time.

He managed to crack a pained smile, "You looking for the big man huh?" The trapped man snickered.

"Yeah. Me and him need to chat. So what can you tell me?" Dean lifted his foot and rested it against Devron's injured thigh. A short scream issued from the cult member. It died out into a gurgled laugh.

"Who are you Dean? Why are you so eager to die?" Devron asked, avoiding the question. His voice was twisted. It sounded wrong to Castiel's ears. He could sense the wicked thoughts churning just inside Devron's consciousness.

"That's for me to know and you to wonder," Dean applied pressure to his boot. He turned to face the priest, "So does it help you access thoughts if a person is distracted by pain?" Dean asked.

Once the pressure was released. Devron opened his eyes and looked at his silent captor. His eyes widened in horror as he took in Castiel's appearance.

"Shit I had no idea this was a blue eye operation. Man, I've been staying out of your way! I never saw anything. I don't know anything!" Devron tried to appease Castiel, more afraid of him than Dean.

_'Well that wasn't weird.'_ Dean wondered sarcastically. He glanced at Cas with an expression that said 'Just go with it.'

Castiel loomed forward before Devron and used his impressive voice to intimidate him. He pushed each word into Devron's mind in a subtle reminder of what he is capable of, "Tell me everything."

"Look all I know is the one dude killed his contact back on 3rd." Castiel could see Uriel in his mind. He was talking about the man Uriel murdered the other day. The murder he had called in a tip for just an hour ago.

"Tell me what he did after," Castiel commanded.

"I dunno. I dunno. Something about souls. Collecting souls! And, and I don't know nothing else. I swear." Dean was confused about Devron's babbling, but he was really impressed at the results Castiel was getting.

A strained silence fell as Castiel finally delved into Devron's mind. Naturally Devron struggled against him. Trying to be evasive and hide information. Castiel didn't enjoy what had to happen, but he needed to know more about Uriel's actions.

"Dean," He said quietly, "A little pain would help."

Obliging Dean gripped Devron's wrist mere inches from the worst of his burns. The man's back arched and he released a howl of anguish. Castiel touched Devron's forehead and reached deeper. This time his attempts were unhindered. Castiel blocked himself from Devron's pain as he sorted through memories.

He reached for Uriel, and saw images of Uriel speaking to cult members. At one point Uriel spoke with Devron, yet the words were no longer there. There was only one vividly violent memory of Uriel in Devron's mind. Castiel watched as his brother brutally murdered someone Devron considered a friend. The fear that tore through Devron seeped into Castiel. It made sense why he was so scared of Castiel and his possible connection to Uriel.

Every other memory seemed choppy, and uneven. It was almost as though the memories had be tampered with. It quickly became apparent that there was little more information on blue eyes to find.

Next he sought out any memory connected to Alistair. The first thing that came across was pain. A shadowed man during his initiation ceremony. And a voice at the end of the phone line. He seemed to know even less about Alistair.

Just before he pulled out of Devron's mind Castiel decided to look for Dean and Sam's father. He riffled around for Winchester. That memory was unfortunately clear. This man was a part of the group that tried to break.. the name... John Winchester. Devron spent a year torturing in new recruits. John was one of them. Castiel memorized every moment he could and withdrew.

* * *

Dean amused himself with causing as much pain as he could to Devron. Cas seemed to be taking his time trying to pick his way through thoughts. Dean moved from the burnt hand, to dragging his hunting blade along the injured arm. Finally Castiel pulled away, and the priest's first two words almost stole Dean's breath away.

"John Winchester." Dean watched him close his glowing blue eyes. He released his grip on the prisoner and waited for Cas to speak again. When the priest looked at Dean his eyes were filled with remorse.

"Dean, I'm sorry," He continued. Cas couldn't bring himself to look at those soulful eyes and watch them break with his next words, "This man was the one who tortured and branded your father."

Devron stilled his painful whimpering. Dean leaned over Devron, looking deep into the man's eyes. "Is that true? Did you torture my father. John Winchester?" Sheer panic took hold of Devron. His eyes blew wide, and his pupils dilated. In fear for his life Devron blacked out the room a second time. Trying to hide from the threat. All three men were surrounded by the darkness.

What Castiel saw next he would never forget. The emotion fueled heat Dean generated surrounded his body. The intensity was so bright it pierced through the unnatural darkness. The tightly coiled flame was so hot it burned a shade of blue that matched Castiel's own eyes.

Every move Dean made was highlighted by his brilliant power. The priest was mesmerized by the beautiful destruction Dean wracked on Devron's body. With practiced ease Dean's hunting knife tore through Devron's muscle and ligaments over and over. The Winchester didn't even realize the guttural scream he was emitting as he painfully tore Devron's life from him.

Finally unable to support the darkness, it dissipated. Castiel snapped out of his trance as sunlight filtered to his eyes. He pulled Dean away from the helpless man.

"Dean stop! Dean you're murdering him! Stop it!" Castiel put himself between Dean and the tortured soul.

"That is not a man. I am not murdering a man. I'm slaying a beast. That creature sacrificed his humanity when he tortured all those innocent people. Tortured my father!" Dean struggled against Castiel once more.

"Then what does that make you!" Castiel's deep voice cut through Dean's clouded mind. Castiel finally grabbed Dean by the shoulders and and shoved him out the door, "Go. Go to Sammy."

Dean turned around, ready to explode again. "Go Dean. I will deal with him. We need to leave." Castiel set his jaw in the same way he'd seen Dean do before. It seemed to work because Dean turned angrily and disappeared.

* * *

Castiel was left alone with the slowly dying Devron. It was obvious that he had no chance of survival. Actually a part of the jugular on his neck was torn, so he probably only had a matter of minutes. Castiel decided he would do this the right way. He began to say the man's final rites in Enocian and reached out to connect to Devron's mind once again. This time he blocked all of the pain and confusion. He instead gave Devron peace in the final moments before he died. Castiel pulled out of the man's mind before his soul slipped away. The priest didn't know what would happen if you were connected to a psyche as it passed. He wasn't particularly eager to find out either.

Now alone in the room, with the torn and battered corpse Castiel sighed in confusion. Every single thing he now knew conflicted with the established laws he had lived his life by. Each hour he spends with the Winchester proves to be the most disturbingly dangerous, and exciting moments of his life.

Castiel focused on Dean and flashed to his location. He was thankful to open his eyes to the Impala's interior. Everyone was just closing their doors to leave. Dean at the steering wheel. A notion which didn't settle well in the priest's stomache. He didn't want Dean's recent break down to lead to everyone's death due to distracted driving.

Fortunately Dean was able to repress his emotions long enough to return to the hotel. Castiel remained in the Impala as the others climbed out. Nobody looked at one another or spoke. The priest felt like his world was spinning on a whole new axis. He needed a break from this insanity and decided to flash away.

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So that really didn't so go smoothly. But hell, when does anything work out for the brothers. Hope you enjoyed. Review!


	12. Chapter 12

Castiel found himself back at the greasy diner. Fortunately nobody in there was paying attention to his sudden appearance. He perched himself in a booth, alone and tried to lose himself in a sonder. He looked out at the Normals walking by on the street. An occasional tainted green eye mingled in the crowd. After a while an overworked waitress asked his order.

To appease her, he requested a tea and toast. Castiel focused and tried to remind himself how unimportant he was. That every turbulent emotion he was feeling is insignificant in the face of reality. He's just a silent man in the crowd. A piece of dust on a speck of a planet, hurling through the universe. Every concern he was drowning in paled in comparison to existence. He was alive, he was breathing, and for that alone he should be grateful to God above.

The notion allowed him to reign in his emotions long enough to analyze them. He began by pondering Gabriel. What would his brother's reaction be if he knew what Castiel has done? What Castiel considered doing.

A reverberation of Gabriel's laugh echoed in his mind. His older brother would be amused, and probably say that Cas was getting too involved. Make some sort of comment on how his younger brother is too serious. And what about Uriel? How had the priest come to murder, and suspicion? Castiel examined what he could of Devron's fragmented memories.

Uriel was looking into the details of collecting souls. That much he could deduce from clippets of conversation. Castiel already knew how a blue eyes can, in a way, take a person's soul. It has to do with belief, trust, and willingness. Rarely, through history, have people actually released their soul to the church. Every story Catiel had been told, involved either lovers or monks sacrificing themselves.

The gentle sound of ceramic clinking drew him from his musings. His beverage and light meal had been placed before him. Idly he grasped the warm cup and let the comforting heat seep into his hands. Temperate relaxation worked it's way ever so slowly up his arms, soothing the tense muscles. He sipped at the tea. Liquid repose slid down his thoat and warming his chest. Uninstigated, a sigh released itself from his lips.

Images of Anna's last meal drifted by like a ghost. Castiel opened his eye to the diner. Finally observing for the first time. He'd seated himself in the same booth the small group had occupied hours earlier. Dean had sat there, he remembered. He'd happily eaten something with bacon in it.

Dean.

That wasn't a topic Castiel was eager to address. The man was so much... everything. From intelligent, to caring. Graceful in combat, yet brutal in his anger. The Winchester clearly loved his brother and holds family like a treasure. The concern he expresses for the kids at the school was as powerful as a father's love. All of these qualities striking, and so far from what Cas expects to see. Dean has proven several times that he has the capability to stun the priest.

He thought back to Dean's vengeance on Devron. The images still vividly bright in his mind's eye. Probably the most conflicting moment in his life. Mesmerized by the visceral beauty, simultaneously repulsed for the very same reason. Castiel felt his chest tighten, negating the soothing tea's efforts. Dean was amazing in his pain. Swift and powerful.

Castiel had stood there aching to sooth the jagged tears in Dean Winchester's soul. The knowledge that his father was tortured without mercy must have hurt him so deeply. A darker part of the priest's mind mutterd _'Not hurt as badly as that scum bag was.'_

Unbidden memories of Dean's sure hands, as he taught Castiel how to handle a pistol, surged to the forefront of his mind. Dean's star stuck expression when Cas had cleaned himself up. Castiel felt his heart thump painfully in response. He didn't like it. but his mind insisted on replying the images over and over. Consuming thoughts swarmed him before the priest shook his head pitifully.

Upset with himself, Cas drank his now cool tea. A distraction presented itself in the shape of his toast. It wasn't fabulous by any stretch. What it did do was drag the memory of Anna's chicken to the surface. He seized the chance and studied his reaction. Food in such simplicity, had given his body pleasure. His indulging in warm tea caused a similar effect. A sort of contentment he'd never experienced. His body craved. Not for the nourishment but for that feeling.

A prayer reached his mind then. Sam's voice asked, _'Cas. If you can hear me, we are worried about you. Please come back.'_

The younger man sounded sincere, and uncomfortable. Almost as though he wasn't adjusted to praying. Well, now is as good of a time as any. Castiel finished off his tea, and smoothed out the last frayed edges of his sentiments. His body's peaceful balance felt tentative at best. As the priest dug out a few bits of loose change, he took the last bites of his toast. The brothers were probably eager to learn what was pulled from Devron's mind.

That means he has to decide which information to share. Those two didn't have to know about Uriel. Not yet. Not until he has a better grip on what is going on. Just as he swallowed his last bite another prayer filtered in. This time Dean,_ 'Castiel. we don't know where you are. So fly your ass down here...'_ Castiel flashed over so quickly, the priest managed to hear the last of the prayer aloud. This time he reappeared behind Dean, and entrenched in his "personal space" as always. He observed silently.

"...so we can talk and shit. Breaker, breaker. Over and out," Dean's voice held a slight edge of amusement. Making himself smile at his own jokes for a moment, "See Sam. The dick's not answering for anyone."

That comment made Castiel smirk inwardly. His composure remained unmoving as the two men before him continued on. Castiel had a clear view of Sam's face and recognized the 'My-brother-is-embarassing-me' expression.

"Hello," Cas interrupted, "You wished to speak to me?" His deep baritone startled Dean causing him to spin around. The green eyed man at least had the decency to look embarrassed. The priest appreciatively noticed the blush across his freckled cheeks.

"Where the hell've you been?" Instead of indulging in such a vulnerable emotion, Dean instead turned it into righteous indignation.

"I have been preoccupied. Do you wish to know what I have learned?" Came the smooth response. Blue eyes gazed steadily at Dean, as unwavering as the accompanying voice. Unable to speak under the magnetic azure Dean made a non-specific gesture of impatience and grunted.

"Devron never met Alistair in person," Castiel cut straight to the important facts. Dean walked around the room and over to Sam. This way it would almost seem like Castiel was looking at both of them. When Castiel opened his mouth to go on a warm breeze swirled around the room briefly before Anna materialized.

"I was listening," She chirped and sat herself near her brother intent on the conversation, "Go on."

"He had no memory of Alistair's face. I now know Alistair's voice. That is all." Keeping it concise should prevent prying questions about Uriel.

Sam asked the question Castiel had been expecting, "What about our father?"

Dean kept his poker face despite his inner turmoil. He'd snapped in front of Castiel, but he couldn't manage to loose it in front of Sam. His baby brother needed a rock to lean on, and Dean was trying to provide just that. The weight of expectation settled around the priest as he answered, "He didn't know your father personally. Devron worked deeper in the city as a converter. But it was he who tortured John Winchester."

"So, you have the memories?" Sam asked quietly. Castiel nodded. The priest was able to review the memories in a detached way. They weren't his own, and he didn't know the man in them. "How bad was it?" Sam met his eyes, imploring for the truth.

"They tried to break him for six months. John was... Devron's favourite." Being the bearer of bad new was never something Castiel enjoyed. Dean didn't speak. Instead he moved to retrieve his bottle of whiskey. Instinct urged Cas to peer into the Winchester's minds and assess how bad the damage was. It was proper manners that held him back. To Cas's left Anna sat immobile, almost like an intruder who was afraid of drawing a guard dog's attention. Even without invading their minds pain filled the atmosphere.

"He never broke," Castiel whispered. Trying to relieve what strain he could. The brother's emotions seemed to permeate into him. "They took him away to brand him. But- he left alive and he was defiant." Dean tipped his glass in a wordless cheer to his father resilience.

"He could still be alive," Sam voiced in meager hope.

This caused Dean to snort at his brother's naivete, "They'll only keep him alive if he converts. We both know he's dead by now," Dean countered jadedly.

The words tore at Sam. Older brothers are meant to protect and Cas did not approve of Dean's petty actions. "Maybe dad escaped," Sam continued to fight back.

"What kinda shape was our father in when they dragged him away?" Dean addressed Castiel this time. Blue eyes couldn't meet hazel. John was barely breathing when Devron had him removed. Castiel knew Devron expected him to die. The priest didn't want to destroy Sam any more than he already was. Hope is such a pure and wonderful thing.

"He fought even as the cult took him away. Never giving up," The response was dodgy but truthful. It was time to change the subject. "Have you called in an anonymous tip regarding Devron's body yet?" Cas asked the room.

The looks he received were blank. "Devron's dead?" Sam asked, disbelief causing his voice to waiver.

"Yes. I stabbed him to death," Dean concluded his words by swallowing the last bit of Maker's Mark, and examining the glass in his hand as though it held all the answers. The act of revenge has tainted a part of himself. Dean wondered if his soul was the colour of the whiskey he drank. Muddied and impure.

"Since when do we kill people, Dean?" Anger and confusion lashed out across the room with the words. This is the second fight Castiel has become privy to. It almost seemed as though these two disagreed more than anything else.

"That wasn't a person. That was a monster who sacrificed his humanity when he began to Torture People," Dean shouted back, justifying his actions, "He killed people! Innocent people! Guy was a lunatic, and he tried to kill our father!"

"And now, so do you," Disgust dripped from Sam's lips. "Just absolve yourself from guilt Dean, because clearly you can't be the one at fault here."

Dean didn't answer. Tension hummed through his muscles. Castiel hadn't realized a good portion of the room's unease manifested itself in Green Eye power. He's slowly becoming more adapted to how the foreign magics feel. Waves of unnatural heat beat against him, not causing him to sweat, instead causing his body to tense up preparing for a fight.

"You know what? I'm done." Sam stood and turned to leave, "I don't know what we are going to do now, but I can't give up hope just because you have." He left briskly, not wishing to hear any retort his older brother may have.

Castiel looked around the room and realized that Anna must have left sometime during the argument.

Dean glanced at Castiel, of course the priest was already looking at him. Expression pensive.

_'I can't deal with him right now.' _Dean decided quickly that a bender was in order. Quickly gathering his leather coat he muttered, "I'm going out," before practically fleeing to his car for a night of debauchery.

* * *

Unsure of what to do next Castiel prepared himself for the burgeoning evening. He snatched the cell phone that Dean left behind and placed the call to the police. Twice now. This really shouldn't become a habit of his. Castiel is not unfamiliar with death. It is murder that doesn't settle well in his stomach.

With that task complete it was out of idle curiosity that Cas turned on the TV. The fascinating little box captured his attention. There were no TVs in the church. He knew they existed. He knew people enjoyed them, and it was only now that Castiel could understand why.

Images flickered to and fro before him. Information, both useful and useless presented in such a colourful array the priest found it difficult to pull away. It was several episodes on animal planet later that he felt his eye lids droop in exhaustion. Castiel didn't understand a lot of what he saw today, but right now he didn't have a manner in which to find the answer. Not bothering to turn off the magical box, Cas took off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and lay back on top of the sheet quickly falling asleep.

He had many question unanswered, and tomorrow would be the time to seek the truth.

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Just had a lot of major things happen for work, but I'm grateful for any readers who are sticking by me. I love you all!


	13. Chapter 13

Assimilating foreign memories into your own is not a smooth process. As Castiel slept his mind struggled to incorporate the new information. In a surreal dream sense Castiel was graced with the twisted experience of living each and every moment he'd stolen. At times he felt Devron's fetid glee, or the feel of bloodied skin under his hand. In other memories he was detached, almost watching the images pass before him. A whirlwind of sounds, and colors blurred through his consciousness.

It was the sound of Dean's return that woke him from the hellish process. Cas shot up into a sitting position. Sweat dropped off his forehead, cooling in the gust of night air, as it flowed through the open door. An off balance and oblivious Dean grunted as he tried to kick off his boots.

Gently Castiel reached into Dean's mind and found it surprisingly sober. It was more fatigue that wore at his coordination. "How much did you drink?" The priest rasped out. Naturally Dean's mind thought over his night in a flash. Cas readily read it all. Apparently he didn't have as many drinks as the brunette he fucked. And he also didn't appreciate Cas questioning him.

"What are you? My mother?" He proceeded to ignore his temporary roommate and collapsed onto his squeaky twin.

Minutes trickled by in the eerily silent motel. Castiel remained sitting, now fully awake. Unconsciousness didn't hold the same appeal now. Intricate details involved in torture ate at his consciousness. Cas didn't commit the crime, but his heart didn't know the difference. In the spin of his mind, there is a brush of insight. A jewel of knowledge. During a session with John there was a visitor. A woman. She was called Abaddon.

Castiel got the impression she was an enforcer, a body guard for Alistair. In the dark room he tried to focus on the words in that conversation specifically. It was difficult. At the time Devron was enjoying the sounds of anguish John was making. A unwanted dark sense of arousal wound through him every few moments. Castiel waged against the quagmire and slowly her words reached him.

Dean's breathing puffed out gently in the darkened room. Despite the relaxed appearance Cas could feel Dean's mind nearly humming with thoughts. It brushed against the priest, almost like hearing an indistinct voice in another room.

"I believe I have gleaned more insight," Castiel's hushed his voice in respect for the sanctity of the night. His naturally deep baritone rumbled about the room, like a lazy beast growling.

There was no verbal response, but Dean's breath did quicken to an attentive pace.

"Abaddon," Castiel tasted the name on his lips. "She's something of a guard for Alistair. I am under the impression that she often completes tasks for him."

The silence was somewhat tense after his words. "I do not know where she is now," Castiel said unhappily.

An upset, yet amused huff escaped Dean, "Then what good does this do us?"

"She's important. Abaddon may be our way to reach Alistair," Castiel didn't let the negativity affect him. He would use any method he needed to figure out what this cult was really doing.

Dean grunted in reply. Not able to articulate a response that's worth the effort. Neither man slept much that night. The morning bird songs had begun as they finally passed into slumber. One plagued by guilt. The other haunted by the echoes of a dead man.

* * *

Sam stood at the foot of the beds. He was graced with the sight of his brother and their new companion passed out. Dean had tense lines across his forehead. He was sleeping on top of his sheets, fully dressed, and his arms crossed. If anyone else was looking on they would think Dean was awake, and merely had his eyes closed. Sam knew his brother was out cold though. There's always the tiniest patch of drool in the corner of his mouth when he was.

With a smirk he looked over to Castiel. The priest was in disarray. Half of his suit was still on, and sheets were horribly tangled. A patch of sunlight made his forehead glimmer. Sweat was slicked against his skin. Castiel's expression was of his usual confusion. That surprised Sam. He'd imagined the priest would look peaceful in slumber.

Sam stood there, torn. He wanted to both seek revenge and scare his brother awake. At the same time Cas has been nothing but great and didn't deserve to be punished.

Anna made the decision by entering the space and loudly asking Sam, "I feel like coffee, what about you Sam?"

Dean woke somewhat gently. He saw his brother above him and immediately assumed the younger Winchester was in the process of pulling some kind of prank. Dean rolled away from his brother and looked around suspiciously. "What time is it?" He gruffly asked.

"Late, about 9," Anna answered. "We need to get moving today. Afterall, we did kill that man. Probably shouldn't stick around too long." She pulled out a phone and checked her messages before impatiently returning it to her pocket. She then dropped a large plastic bag on the small motel table.

Castiel didn't engage anyone as he excused himself to the bathroom to clean up. Without prompting Anna produced take out boxes from the bag and began to re-heat the breakfast left overs. Clearly her and Sam have been awake for a while and had already eaten. Anna tinkered about, making some coffee for everyone.

It wasn't long before everyone was clean, dressed and discussing the issues at hand. Sammy had a laptop out and was trying to look for any sort of trail they could follow. "Look here," Sam pointed to the screen, drawing Dean's attention, "There's been 4 murders in Westbrooke."

"Yeah so?" Dean mumbled around the edge of the cheap mug.

"Well, the police report is almost empty. Barely any detective work was done. It's almost like the cops were ignoring the crime. Looking the other way. And.." Sam clicked about the keys for a second, before a black and white image from some newspaper popped up, "Look, two of the victims clearly were branded by the cult."

"And the others?" Anna asked, interested in this new discovery.

"Can't get a good photo. But I'm willing to bet that if we go there, we'll find some cult activity. Maybe we can get more information. I mean, it's not like we have much to go on right now."

"Abaddon," The single word cut through the conversation.

Castiel idly chewed at a piece of waffle. He was struck by the sweet and sticky syrup that coated his tongue. Without looking up he continued to address the room, instinctively knowing everyone's focus was trained on him, "A woman named Abaddon addressed Devron regarding the security of the building they were in. It was about 2 miles outside Westbrooke, to the East."

Confounded pleasure flashed behind blue eyes, as Castiel snatched a strawberry off of Dean's plate rudely and quickly ate it before elaborating, "She appears to be in Alistair's implicit trust. She is also mobile. Not hidden amongst the shadows. I believe attempting to capture Abaddon is our best course of action."

"So where do we start?" Anna easily accepted the idea. Most probably due to the lack of other options.

"Westbrooke," Sam answers, "I can feel it, there's something there."

"Alright, how far away is it?" Dean grunted lightly as he stood and moved to peer over his brother's shoulder.

* * *

Dean, as driver, decided on his choice of music. Led Zeppelin tore from the speakers. The foreign sounds assailed Castiel's ears.

6 hours. They need to travel for 6 hours. That means Dean's music would echo for 6 hours. Each person tried their best to adjust to the uncomfortable trip. Sam researches anything he can on the cult via his laptop. Apparently he's managed some sort of technical wizardly, and used his phone to get internet. The younger man would inter-space his silent searches with conversation about the random shit he discovers. Which is nothing overly promising.

Cas occupies himself with looking out the window. Idle mind drifting between meditation and ambled thought. Anna sat beside her brother in the back seat, and tried to leisurely entertain herself. He could feel energy shift and mix around her. She conjured a small flame and made it bend and flow. She changes it's strength and colour. Once satisfied with her private performance, she slowly smoked and reappeared, controlling the speed. After a few attempts it became apparent she is attempting to hover between the two forms. Find the balance between solid and gaseous.

After driving for a while Dean laughs at her, "Show off."

"Nothing else to do," She replies with a small smile.

With surprise Cas realized that his sister was thoroughly enjoying herself. There is a pure happiness in her dark power. He was curious about how that could be. Subconsciously he reached out into her mind. Anna didn't notice the invasion, and Castiel drew on her peace. Seeing no repercussion to his action, Cas decided against the old social nicety and spends his time actively monitoring his other friends. He'd only decided that very morning that these people were indeed his friends.

_'And your first action is to invade their privacy.' _The little voice of conscious whispered to him, feebly. Ignoring it the priest delved into Sam. He found that Sam was calculating and imaginative in his own mind. References and images that Castiel couldn't understand floated about. It was almost like Sam could have a whole conversation with himself. Something of an instinct said he's had to before. Sam was debating subjects from numerous perspectives. Occasionally, he observed, bits of fantasy would inject itself, and amuse the man.

Innocence prevailed in Sam's domain. For now. Castiel felt dark recesses that edged the Winchester's thoughts. There was something there. Something Castiel didn't fully understand yet.

With that disturbing concern, he decided to move on to Dean. From the moment he re-connected to Dean, strange pleasure filled both their minds. Dean was actually happy. The kind of welling emotions that almost seemed impossible only 24 hours ago. Gently Cas tried to figure out why. Dean's focus was on the smooth steering wheel under his hands. The music filtering through his thoughts changing the colour of his mood. Castiel asked himself _'Why are you so happy?'_

Dean responded to the question with a smile. He didn't seem to realized the thought wasn't his own.

Castiel saw, physically and mentally, as Dean glanced at Sam. Sam was alive and well. A part of his mind was soothed with that knowledge. Anna, he didn't look at her instead aligning thoughts of her, has grown into something amazing. Healthy now after all the difficulties she's faced. That made him feel protective and content. Dean then thought of the open road stretched out before them. His thoughts drifted a bit, entertaining more abstract ideas of change and progress. The idea of moving forward in his life.

Castiel realized Dean hadn't thought of the priest. He sent out another message; adding it gently so Dean wouldn't suspect it's source, _'What about Cas?'_

It worked. Dean looked directly at Cas, who met his eyes readily. Something changed in Dean's mind, the happiness flared for an instant before Dean smothered it. At that same moment he looked away, back to the road. Dean berated himself mentally for getting distracted from the road by _'that blue fire.'_ Cas reveled the way Dean referred to him. It gave the impression that the man had respect for Cas. That had an impact on the priest. Even still, his friend had smothered any pleasure that Cas's presence may have given him.

The blue eyed man kept his steady composure. His initial guilt now fully replaced by curiosity._ 'Why was Dean trying not to enjoy his company?'_

Castiel realized his mistake too late. The question accidentally floated into Dean's mind. Cas grasped at it; the telepathic tether slipping through his control. This time Dean recognized it was foreign. He didn't talk like that. Wouldn't refer to himself in the third person.

Seemingly out of nowhere Dean snaps out, "Cas! Get out of my head!"

Anna lost focus and her newly conjured flame flared, singing a few of her hairs. Alien amusement bombarded Dean's mind suddenly. All three passengers pushed their thoughts against his, purely to annoy the man.

"Cut it out!" Dean growled and vividly imagined driving the car into a tree with himself as the only survivor. Sam laughed and withdrew. Anna smirked and said, "You'd never do that to your baby," As she also retreated.

Cas remained, not trying to hide himself this time. He asked Dean again _'Why don't you like me? Have I offended you?'_ Cas sensed the shift in Dean's mind again, before he was shoved roughly out.

"Cas, if you keep that up I'm gonna beat the crap out of you." Castiel felt the mental equivalent of a door slamming in Dean's head. The priest's gaze met green in the rear view mirror. Though his face was blank his blue gaze held an amusement that frustrated Dean. To distract himself, the aggravated driver turned up the music.

Castiel heard a brief message from Anna drift across his mind,_ 'Be nice.'_ Her tone was teasing more than scolding._ 'What were you bothering him about?' _She pried.

_'He's actively trying not to enjoy my company. I asked him why.'_ Something about his statement engaged his sister causing her to laughed aloud. The sound was drowned out by the Rolling Stones.

_'Castiel. You really don't have any social graces.'_ Again it was with a teasing tone rather than chastising.

That was indeed a fact he couldn't disagree with.

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Season 8 ended. Now I'm a sad puppy. Hopefully this fiction can keep me strong until 9 picks up. Please review.


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